Big Plans, Big Big Plans
by Rose Malmaison
Summary: Tony is at a point in his life when he needs to tell his friends, especially Gibbs, the truth about who he really is. When Tony spends Christmas with Gibbs, it is with great trepidation that he reveals his long-kept secret. Gibbs' reaction is not at all what he expects. Gibbs/DiNozzo. Slash, angst, romance, first time, Christmas, team characters, a murder investigation. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Big Plans, Big _Big_ Plans  
by rose malmaison  
Rated: M  
Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo  
Genre: slash, angst, romance, first time, Christmas  
Warnings: sexual situations, language  
Chapters: 10  
Words: 42,500  
Spoilers: Mild spoilers up to Season 10. Begins - and veers off - from episode 10x10, _You Better Watch Out  
_Takes Place: During Christmas week, December 2012  
Written for NCIS-Bang

Art by: **mella68**

Disclaimer: Quotes at the beginning of each chapter are from NCIS episode dialog, used solely because they contain the word 'plan.' Sometimes they actually seem to fit.

Thanks: to Combatcrazy for letting me bounce ideas off her at all hours and betaing.  
To Cernícalo for betaing for me (even though I added a lot afterwards and made big changes.) Also for her bright suggestions.  
Huge thanks to Mella for her imaginative and spot-on art for my fic!

Comments are appreciated and what you say often gives me more ideas...

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**CHAPTER 1 - AFLOAT AND ADRIFT**

SATURDAY, DEC. 22

_**Agent Afloat [6.02]**_

_Gibbs: You got a B-plan DiNozzo?  
Tony: B…B-plan? Plan B? Be prepared. Of course I have a Plan B. What kind of agent afloat would I be if I didn't have a Plan B? You…you gotta have a Plan B. I'm all about Plan B. (Phone rings, Tony answers) Plan A. They found him!_

"Abby's making her special Cajun-style pineapple-apple bread pudding to bring along," McGee said, beaming in anticipation. "Aren't you coming, Tony?"

"Uh…not this time." It was barely eight a.m. and Tony had a feeling it was going to be a long day.

"I'm making a bourbon sauce, too," Abby said while pulling a printed report from the mass spectrometer. She handed it to Tony, switching easily into work mode. "Chemical analysis of the debris you collected from Lieutenant Bryce Foreman. Good thing they towed his car out of the pond before any more evidence was contaminated. There were traces on his jacket and shoes consistent with soil from a relatively small area west of the Potomac. Somewhere with heavy tree cover and a lot of pines."

"Now we need to figure out why Nature Boy was killed," Tony said, glancing over the readings.

"_And_ who killed him," Tim pointed out dryly.

Abby held up a glass jar containing a distorted piece of lead. "At least we know how he died. A .22 low-load to the chest. Ducky puts the TOD at midnight." They'd been called in around four a.m. and both Ducky and Abby had worked fast. The lieutenant's own service gun had been recovered from his home and ballistics had proven it was not the murder weapon. So far there were no suspects in custody but the MCRT had their eyes on two people who had been close to the deceased.

Tony turned to Tim. "Can you look at Lieutenant Foreman's GPS records, see if he's been traipsing around in the woods recently? Hiking, picnicking, or maybe meeting that special someone for a pine-scented quickie?"

Tim said, "You would think _that_."

Tony said with certainty, "What I think, McGee, is that the _ex_-wife – the lovely Gina Zarillo – did her husband in."

"You don't know that for a fact," Tim protested.

"No, I don't, which is why we're pursing an in-ves-ti-_ga_-tion, Pro-ho-bie," Tony replied, drawing out his words.

Tim changed the subject. "So, exactly why aren't you coming with us, Tony?"

Tony pretended to be absorbed by the printouts that Abby had given him. "Send us the digital files, will you, Abs? Is there any evidence that Foreman was walking in a park somewhere and got waylaid?"

"I already sent the files," Abby said with a smile. "It wasn't robbery. Here are his effects, including his wallet." While Tony and Tim looked through the bagged items, Abby asked, "Are you _sure_ you don't want to come to Richmond with us, Tony? Breena says there are enough beds for everyone to stay over. It'll be me and Timmy and Dornie, and Breena, of course, and Jimmy. And with you, that makes six," she said hopefully. "We could snuggle together in front of the fire and watch _The Grinch _and_ Charlie Brown's Christmas_."

Tony slung his arm around Abby's shoulders and gave her a hug. "That sounds most enticing but, like I told you, I already have plans. Isn't Ziva going with you?"

"She is going to spend her vacation at a singles ski lodge," McGee said. "Maybe you should join her."

"Or _not_," Tony responded.

Abby appealed, "C'mon, Tony. You still have a couple of days to change your mind. If you guys wrap up this investigation by Sunday, we'll be leaving Monday morning."

"I have _plans_, Abby."

He did, too, starting with his annual early morning run around Constitution Gardens and the war memorials, and then a sauna and deep massage at Body Beautiful, which was conveniently open every day of the year. Finally he would settle down in front of his TV for a holiday movie marathon and a pre-ordered dinner delivered to his home from one of DC's finest restaurants. Tony had engaged in the same routine since he started at NCIS over a decade ago, although in the early days he certainly couldn't afford lobster from Fahrenheit at the Ritz-Carlton.

Last year, Tony had been surprised when Gibbs had made it clear he was expected to come along for a holiday dinner at Layla's house. Okay, he'd been shocked; he never saw it coming. Just the same, Tony had been excited and he'd felt honored that Gibbs would even consider including him in what was a family gathering. Okay, so Gibbs had inherited Mike Franks' daughter-in-law and her little girl, but to Gibbs they were family and not only was he responsible for their wellbeing but he loved them as if they were his own.

Apparently Layla had suggested that Gibbs could bring a guest to her traditional Christmas meal and she didn't seem at all surprised when Gibbs showed up with an armful of gifts and Tony on his six. Tony had a feeling throughout that dinner that Gibbs had asked him along as a buffer of sorts. Franks' recent death made the cheerfulness of the holiday bittersweet for both Layla and her young daughter. It soon became obvious that Tony's ability to talk about anything and everything made up for Gibbs' lack of small talk. Still, Gibbs really cared for Franks' remaining family and it showed in the way his face softened when he was around them, and the gentle way he touched Amira's hair when he leaned over to listen to something the little girl was saying.

This year there would be no repeat of that holiday dinner. Layla and her daughter were staying with some friends out of town and Gibbs had not yet mentioned what he was doing. Probably going to hole up in his basement and dine on take-out Chinese. Tony had asked about Gibbs' dad, but he was going to be visiting relatives and Gibbs said he'd see him after the holidays.

Tony stifled his disappointment that he would not be watching Gibbs carve the turkey at the head of a table set with a colorful tablecloth and festive place settings. They might have been a mixed bag of cultures and upbringings but, for those few precious hours, they were just like a real family.

Not that Tony was deluding himself that any of this was real. Not for him anyway. Gibbs, he'd had that kind of family once, and now he seemed to slip right back into that fatherly role. It would never be like that for Tony. He was a visitor, an incidental part of that world, always on the outside. He should be used to it by now, but it every passing year it became harder to get through the holidays without having a meltdown in public.

Tony would have a hard time explaining to anyone what happened to him every Christmas season. Pressure built up in his head until he was sure it was going to explode, he had sleepless nights with aching bones and during the day he got the jitters and felt like he was ready to crawl right out of his skin. Maybe imploding was a more accurate term. Whatever it was, Tony was teetering on a very sharp edge and he had no clear idea why.

One thing Tony was sure of: spending several days cooped up with his teammates and friends was not going to make it any easier.

"I have plans I can't change," Tony said firmly. He caught McGee frowning at him. He thought Tony was just making excuses to get out of going. How right he was. Tony had to remind himself that McGullible had become more astute over the years.

Not one to give up easily, Tim cajoled, "It's only a two-hour drive to Breena's aunt's home, Tony. We're going in Jimmy's SUV. You can sit up front."

Talk about pulling out all the stops. "Wow, you're sacrificing your spot in the shotgun seat? For me? That's almost enough to tip the scales, McCarpool, but like I told you–"

"I know, I know," McGee interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Plans, _big_ plans. That means you'd rather watch some old holiday movie for the hundredth time and spend Christmas all alone _again,_ instead of being with your friends."

Abby twisted one pigtail and said plaintively, "Friends who are like family, or as close as family can be if they're really good friends who are like family, are like…_better_ than family." She blinked a couple of times and Tony had a feeling she'd confused herself. "Or maybe you don't think of us as family," Abby said sadly.

"Of course you guys are my family, only…" Tony wasn't sure that he could explain why he didn't want to accompany them on the trip and spend Christmas with them. Hell, it wasn't easy to explain it to himself. Christmas was not a holiday he enjoyed and the only way he could get through it was by being alone. That's how it had always been, ever since he was a kid – ever since his mom died. He continued, "Only, who wants to spend hours jammed into Palmer's SUV, getting lost on the way to a stranger's house all the way out in Richmond, and ending up getting high from sugar cookies while watching holiday movies on TV, all crammed together on a lumpy old couch, when you can do it so much better in the comfort of your own home?"

"Well, obviously, _we_ do," said Abby, looking at Tony like he was crazy to even ask.

McGee pounced on Tony's words. "Ahah, so you _are_ going to stay home alone."

"I didn't say that. I said that that kind of activity was better done at home," Tony retorted, wondering how long they'd persist along this line of questioning. They should be used to his refusal to spend Christmas with the team by now, anyway. "How about we show Christmas movies in MTAC and Palmer can make some of that special eggnog of his. Then you go your way and I'll go mine." Tony smiled brightly as if all of their problems were solved.

McGee asked warily, "You're not going to go see your dad, are you? You know how that always ends up."

Even though she loved Senior, Abby agreed, "Badly."

"Hey," Tony protested, despite them being right. He'd made arrangements to meet his father for holidays and special occasions more times than he could count, and the plans had always fallen through. Not _his_ fault though. Tony would hang around waiting for his father to show up, and Senior would always offer some valid-sounding excuse why he couldn't make it – if he called at all. Tony would come away more disappointed than he'd like to admit, and would be left wondering why his old man couldn't put a little effort into seeing his own son. Just _once_, that's all he wanted. _Once_. A nice time together. No fancy restaurants or expensive outings; just the two of them bonding over a beer and burger or sitting somewhere comfortable and having a real conversation. Was that so much to ask?

Well, this year, when Senior had called to say he was coming to DC, Tony had stopped him before he had the chance to invite himself over, or to wheedle cash out of him, or whatever it was he wanted this time.

_"I don't want you to come here for Christmas, Dad," Tony said, hating that he sounded so abrupt._

_"I thought you wanted a family Christmas. Just like we used to have."_

_Tony asked, "Oh you mean perfectly decorated tree with heaps of gifts underneath, the wonderful aroma of baked cinnamon cookies coming from the kitchen, and everyone gathered around the fire in the family room singing Christmas carols .I…I'm having a hard time remembering… Oh wait! Now I know why I can't remember those times! It's because we didn't have any!"_

_"Tony," Senior said with a deep sigh. "After your mom died…"_

_"You know what, Dad? Don't. Just don't. If you do visit, we'll end up having an argument like we always do. Or, more likely, something more important will come up and you won't even have the decency to call me."_

_"But Junior, I have something special for you–"_

_"No!"_

_"But Junior…"_

_"What part of 'no' don't you understand, Dad?"_

Abby and Tim made a couple more attempts to coax Tony to join them, but he stuck to his guns and said no as politely as he could. In the end he escaped, citing work. "We're in the middle of an investigation, people, in case you hadn't noticed," Tony pointed out. A glance at his watch told him they'd spent too long with Abby, and there was a lot they'd have to get done if they wanted Christmas off.

※÷※÷※

Tony took the stairs at a fast clip but he couldn't shake Tim.

"You hurt Abby's feelings. You know this means a lot to her," Tim said, keeping pace with Tony all the way up to their floor.

Tony stopped before they reached the bullpen and said in a terse voice, "I told you right from the start that I wasn't going on this little outing you guys concocted, but you won't take no for an answer, will you? What is it with everyone? First my dad and then you."

Tim appeared taken aback but before he could say anything, Tony marched ahead of him into the bullpen. Gibbs was standing in front of the large plasma screen looking impatient. Ziva was at his side and as they approached, she looked at Tony curiously.

Of course Gibbs had heard Tony telling Tim off – half the office had from the way they were all looking his way. Great, now the boss was going to get on his case.

Right on cue, Gibbs said, "DiNozzo! You got a problem, sort it out on your own time."

"All sorted out, Boss." Tony avoided Gibbs' steely gaze and stood at his shoulder to report Abby's findings. He compressed Abby's report into "Joe Friday" facts which was exactly what Gibbs wanted to hear.

"Lieutenant Bryce Foreman, 48 years old, has been at home for the past two weeks, beginning a two-month leave. He is away for long stretches and ever since his divorce he's been renting out rooms to his buddy, Joseph Minor. Minor is a former Navy sergeant who left the service last year after being injured. Uh, lost partial sight in one eye."

Ziva interjected, "They served together on the Reagan for five years and appear to have known one another before that."

Tony continued, "The Lieutenant's body was discovered in his car in a shallow pond behind a mall. He was killed in the vehicle, while it was stationary, at midnight, as Ducky and Abby have already determined. The car was then driven into the pond by persons unknown, presumably to wash away any evidence."

McGee interjected smoothly, "I'm checking the Lieutenant's GPS records to see if he visited any parks in the area, on the off-chance he met his killer there."

"The ex-wife?" asked Gibbs.

Tony said, "Lieutenant Foreman's ex-wife of two years, one Gina Zarillo, resides two blocks from his house."

"She did not move very far away," Ziva observed.

"Was she on friendly terms with her ex?" Gibbs asked skeptically.

Tony replied, "According to neighbors, whenever Foreman was in port, she was over there all the time."

"And now?" asked Gibbs.

"Right now, she is not at home or at work, but it's early and she isn't due in until nine a.m. Lieutenant Foreman's housemate, Joe Minor, is also missing. He works as the night manager at an IT firm downtown, and although they say he left work an hour ago, we can't locate him."

"They own any weapons?"

Ziva stepped forward and said, "Minor owns a service revolver, which we recovered from his room. It was not the weapon used to kill Lieutenant Foreman. Gina Zarillo does not own any registered weapons but she has been known to frequent the local firing range alongside her ex-husband, whenever he is in port. The owner of the range, who was _not_ very polite when I phoned his home this morning, says that Ms. Zarillo rents weapons from the range. She is proficient at everything from handguns to semi-automatic rifles."

"Great," muttered Gibbs.

"She could have bought the .22 off the street or borrowed a gun from someone at the range," Tony suggested.

"But why would she kill her husband?" asked Ziva. "Do we have a motive?"

"Maybe she was jealous. Shot hubby for doing the horizontal mambo with the hot chick next door?"

"In spousal murders," McGee pointed out, "41% are women killing their partners, if you believe the FBI statistics."

Gibbs snorted.

"They were divorced, were they not?" asked Ziva.

Gibbs interjected, "Never stopped any of my ex-wives."

"See?" said Tony gleefully. He loved it when his 'the wife/girlfriend/old lady did it' theory was proven to be correct.

"And they don't need a gun to be violent," Gibbs said.

"That's right, the old nine-iron to the skull," Tony agreed. "Still have the scar, Boss?"

"It was a seven-iron," Gibbs snapped.

Once they'd tossed some theories around (…the ex-wife killed Foreman and his housemate; or the housemate killed Foreman and his ex-wife and her body had not been found yet…), Tony returned to his desk and got to work. He started by checking the BOLO on Foreman's ex-wife and his roomie but there were no hits yet. As always, there were a lot of phone calls to make and records to search so, as Tim was still busy with the GPS and checking bank accounts at the same time, Tony delegated some of the tasks to Ziva.

Tony could feel her eyes upon him from where she sat at her desk, but he ignored her as best he could. That didn't prevent Ziva from asking, "You do not wish to be with your family for the holidays?"

"Nope," Tony said curtly, hoping but not expecting that to be the end of it.

"Perhaps they do not wish you to join them."

Tony glared at her. "My family is pretty much limited to my father." Not entirely true, as he had an uncle and a few cousins from the DiNozzo side in Brooklyn. They hadn't been close for a while and Tony wasn't particularly interested in renewing their acquaintance. Besides, his father's behavior over the years hadn't exactly endeared him to the relatives, and Tony didn't expect that he would be welcome in their homes, either.

"But Tony Senior is such a charming man." Ziva mused, "And you only have one father. How I would love to be able to visit my father for the holidays, and enjoy a festive meal with my Aunt Ruth and Uncle Levi and cousins Aviv and Ronia and–"

Tony cut her off. "I get the picture, Ziva. To each his own, okay? You find Gina yet?"

"The ex-wife? I am working on locating her," Ziva said dismissively. "If you dislike your own family so much, Tony, perhaps it would be better for you to make one of your own."

Tony snorted. "Make a family from a kit, like the way Gibbs makes his boats? Buy some lumber, slap on some glue, do a little sanding and voila!" In a typical Italian gesture, Tony put his fingertips to his mouth and pulled them away with a kissing sound."La famiglia immediata."

Gibbs' head came up at that. "You think it's that easy, DiNozzo?"

"Uh, no Boss, of course not. It takes a _great_ deal of skill." Tony glared at Ziva to get her to shut up. It didn't have any effect.

Ziva's chin went up. "I was referring to making your own family through marriage. You choose a mate, get married and procreate…"

"Whoa! DiNozzos do not procreate, they make love. Marriage is not on my agenda," Tony said, shuddering dramatically.

"Oh, of course, silly me. No woman in her right mind would marry you," Ziva said with a knowing nod. "Which leaves one-night stands with bimbos who are a few peas short of a casserole."

"A few peas…?" Tony laughed.

Gibbs said, without looking up from whatever he was busy writing, "Just don't put any peas in _my_ casserole."

Ziva looked Gibbs' way, puzzled. "Would you…like me to bake you a casserole, Gibbs?"

"What I want is for you to get to work, Ziva," Gibbs growled. He glanced at Tony. "You, too."

Ziva turned her attention back to her computer but a minute later she whispered loudly to Tony. "So, Tony, about finding you a spouse…"

Tony wanted to bang his head on his desk but he was afraid he'd overdo it and end up spending the weekend in the ER. Instead, he said in carefully measured words, "I don't believe in marriage. You know that phrase, 'like father, like son'? Well, my dad's track record speaks volumes: six wives and counting…or is it seven? Anyway, he's way worse than Gibbs and that's saying something!" Oops. Tony could feel his boss's eyes boring a hole in him so he got back to work, saying briskly, "Just checking on a lead here, Boss."

A moment later Tony glanced up to find Gibbs standing beside his desk, looking at him with an inscrutable expression. "Yeah, Boss?"

"You okay, DiNozzo?"

"Sure, I'm just peachy." Actually, he was having a hard time holding it together. He was short-tempered and felt like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. It always got this way around the holidays, all the touchy-feely emotional stuff that accompanied Christmas left him distinctly uneasy. Tony pulled out all the stops and smiled broadly, praying that Gibbs would buy it and move on. "Um, sorry about the commentary about marriage because we both know that any woman would be crazy to marry you, much less divorce you…and…I'll shut up now."

"Good idea." Instead of going away, Gibbs leaned over Tony's desk, keeping his voice low when he asked, "You're gonna be alone?"

_Shit, not him, too._ Without thinking, Tony said, "Don't tell me _you_ think I need a wife in order to have a life!"

Straightening up, Gibbs replied stiffly, "No, I don't, DiNozzo. I was going to ask if you wanted to come over for a meal on Christmas."

Oh great, now he'd done it. Tony apologized, "Look, I'm sorry. It's just that my father called…and then Abby and Tim wouldn't stop pushing me about going to Breena's and _she_…" Tony jerked his head in Ziva's direction and he swore he saw the corner of Gibbs' mouth twitch in amusement.

Gibbs merely shrugged. "No pressure. Just turn up if you want to. Nothing fancy. Oh, and no Christmas gifts, understood?"

Overcome with a warm and fuzzy feeling because Gibbs thought enough of him to ask him over – and spending quality time with Gibbs trumped any previously arranged plans – Tony nodded and dropped his eyes to his keyboard. He hoped that the flush he could feel climbing his neck wasn't too obvious. "Understood," he said and went back to work. Talk about mood swings; now he felt like whistling and doing a Fred Astaire around the bullpen.

A minute later, Tim reported, "Joseph Minor's bank account is close to being drained. He's withdrawn substantial sums every week and has even started taking out payday loans." He shook his head as if disappointed at people's stupidity.

Gibbs said, "Gambling? Drugs? Ex-wife? Find out."

Suddenly, Tim exclaimed, "The GPS records came in! Dyke Marsh Preserve, off the George W. Parkway – Lieutenant Foreman stopped there several times around five p.m. over the past two weeks."

"I told you – a quickie!" said Tony with a grin.

Tim said, obviously pleased, "And they have brand new high-tech security cameras at the entrance."

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	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2 - COVER UP**

_**Under Covers [3.8]  
**Ziva: Good plan... except from one thing.  
Tony: What is that?  
Ziva: As soon as I leave, they are most likely put a bullet through your head.  
Tony: Well...I didn't say the plan was perfect._

Although the park had no regular guards on duty, they did patrol at sunrise and sunset and the local PD did drive-bys when they were on their rounds. The camera set-up was new and it relayed its images directly to a central computer so McGee and Ziva went to the National Park Service offices on C Street to view the digital video of recent comings and goings at Dyke Marsh Preserve.

That left Gibbs and Tony to drive to the park itself for a look-around.

"A few peas short of a casserole," Tony said with a chuckle as he made himself comfortable in the speeding car. "How about, a few keystrokes short of a keyboard? Sounds like something McGeek would say. I like: One twist short of a Slinky. Oh, I know! Not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree. Appropriately seasonal. Now it's your turn, Boss."

Gibbs muttered, "A few gunmen short of a posse," which made Tony laugh.

"Good one."

Without taking his eyes off the road, Gibbs said in a threatening voice, "And if I hear one more out of you, DiNozzo, this will be one car short of an agent."

※÷※÷※

Gibbs took a sharp turn into the park, slowing down only when they came to a sizeable parking area. There were only a few cars present as the day was pretty cold and not conducive to walking. Tony checked out each make and model out of habit. "Hey, that Jeep's plate matches Joe Minor's," he said excitedly. "And that Mini belongs to Gina. Nice! Chili red, though I'd go for navy blue."

"Better vest up," Gibbs said, ignoring Tony's chatter about automobile colors.

The moment he stepped out of the sedan, Tony regretted not having worn a sweater, as the wind off the river was pretty brisk. Luckily, the bulletproof vest cut some of the chilly wind, and when he put the NCIS windbreaker on, collar up, and pulled the ball cap down, Tony figured he'd survive. He adjusted his weapon and made sure he had easy access to it.

Gibbs asked, "You ready or what?"

"Always ready, Boss," said Tony. He wished he had a warm scarf to wrap around his neck, but the NCIS hat was okay and the windbreaker was doing its job.

Gibbs looked him over and, to Tony's surprise, nodded. "This won't take long."

"I'm fine," Tony assured him, not sure what Gibbs was getting at. "On your six, Boss."

Gibbs took him at his word and they set off on a path that led into the heavy woods. They passed a couple walking briskly accompanied by their dog, an older man speed-walking, and a woman jogger who was wearing clothing that looked more appropriate for a summer's day. Tony leered at her as she passed and turned to watch her go, though as soon as he did so he knew he'd made a mistake. The slap to his head was glancing but it stung and caused his ball cap tilt over his eyes. If Tony hadn't stopped for a second, to right his cap, he never would have noticed movement through the trees. "Gibbs, wait! Over there…isn't that our guy, Minor?"

It was hard to tell as the man was a distance, walking briskly along a side path that led towards the river. But as soon as he half-turned, they both knew that this was the man they were looking for.

Gibbs led the way through the woods, taking care to keep far enough back that they wouldn't be spotted. Tony wondered what the dead lieutenant's roomie was up to wandering around in the cold. It didn't take long to find out the answer. Ahead was an open-sided shelter with benches for people to sit and take in the view of the river. A dark-haired woman approached Minor and started talking to him.

Tony muttered, "I _knew_ the ex-wife did it."

As they approached, all of a sudden, the woman pulled out a handgun and raised it, aiming directly at Minor. Minor stepped back, stumbling, and said something in protest.

Drawing his weapon, Gibbs signaled for Tony to flank the couple on one side while he took the other side, and a minute later, Gibbs was calling out, "NCIS! Keep your hands where I can see them!" Tony shouted the same, and the second he saw Minor's head whip around he knew he was going to run. Sure enough, he took off, and the woman hurried in the opposite direction. Gibbs went after Gina, leaving Tony to chase after the man.

Tony loved to run. He ran for fun and to keep in shape all through the year – except when the temperatures dipped low enough to see clouds of vapor issuing from his mouth. Then his lungs gave him trouble and he was forced to exercise indoors. Considering how damned cold it was, experience told Tony that he'd better catch his quarry within the first mile or else his lungs would seize up and he'd lose him – and that was not an option.

The ground was slippery underfoot due to the pine needles, and Joe Minor had a head start, but Tony gave it everything he had, so it wasn't long before he was close enough to tackle their suspect. They went down together, with Tony hanging onto his suspect for dear life as they tumbled down a steep slope and crashed into some spiky bushes growing on the river's edge.

Tony got to his feet first. He stood over Minor while he reached for his handcuffs. "What the hell's the matter with you? Don't you understand that when someone tells you to stop in the name of the law, you stop? Didn't you ever watch _Dragnet_? How about _Starsky &amp; Hutch_?"

"Fuck you, man! Get off me!"

All of a sudden Minor reared back and elbowed Tony in the stomach. When Tony twisted to get out of the way, Minor scrambled to his feet and tried to make a run for it.

"Not so fast, asshole!" Tony was immediately on top of Minor, grabbing his arm and twisting high behind his back. It had to hurt like hell but Minor fought Tony hard, and Tony was sure the guy was going to get his arm broken if he kept acting so crazy. They grappled, both men swearing, and just when Tony thought he finally had the guy under control, Minor dropped to the ground and kicked out, sweeping Tony off his feet. Tony rolled and a second later headed right back into the fray. He ducked a fist, countering with a jab to the suspect's stomach and another to his face. Minor doubled over in pain but somehow he managed to punch Tony on the side of his head.

Tony went down, dazed, his ears ringing, but he refused to let go of the man. Off-balance, they ended up falling sideways together, and next thing, Tony was immersed in water so icy it took his breath away. After a fleeting moment of panic, Tony's feet touched solid ground and he discovered that they were in the shallows and in no danger of drowning. The way Minor was thrashing around and pulling Tony back under, they'd be lucky not to get pneumonia.

They splashed around in the frigid water, trying to regain their footing but a strong current threatened to drag them into deeper water. The bulky protective gear Tony was wearing made it tough for him to get back on his feet, especially with his suspect struggling to get away from him. Tony hung onto him for dear life – no way was the man going to get away after all this. Gibbs would have a fit.

Minor kept striking out at Tony, some of the punches hitting their mark, but he was weakening. Even if some of the blows hurt like hell, Tony's mind was occupied with getting them out of the river. All of a sudden, Tony got his feet under him, and he was finally able to snap the handcuffs on Minor's wrists. "Gotcha! You are under arrest, asshole!"

Gibbs appeared on the embankment, gun drawn, and watched as Tony slogged his way out of the shallows, dragging Minor with him. "You need a hand down there?" Gibbs asked, sounding a bit relieved.

"No, g-got it under c-control." Drenched and freezing, Tony managed to smile through trembling lips as he shoved his handcuffed suspect ahead of him. Gibbs stepped down the embankment and helped haul the man onto dry land. Tony scrambled after him, gasping, "What k-kept you, Boss? You lose Gina?"

"Nope. Cuffed her to a tree. At least I don't look like a wet cat that fell in the river," Gibbs said with a smirk. He took hold of their prisoner and briskly led the way back to their car.

"Wait a minute…who looks like a w-wet c-cat?" demanded Tony.

※÷※÷※

From inside Gibbs' car, Tony watched as a couple of agents drove away with a somewhat subdued Joe Minor. Another car had already transported Gina Zarillo to a holding cell back at NCIS. She'd been really pissed about being secured to a tree, and had let the NCIS agents know she was going to sue for assault.

Gibbs had just handed her over to the support agents and bagged the .22 he'd taken off her.

"Murder weapon, Boss?"

"It's been discharged recently," was the brief reply. They both knew they'd have to wait for confirmation of ballistics.

Gibbs' car was nice and warm with the engine running, but even so, Tony's clothing was still damp from his dip into the Potomac. As soon as his fingertips had lost their blue hue and were more of a natural pink, Tony got out of the car and removed the bulletproof vest, which he then stowed in the trunk. Immediately the wind off the river cut through his inadequate office clothes, making him shiver. He wished he'd thought to bring a thermos of hot coffee.

"Hey."

Tony turned and found Gibbs standing behind him, pouring steaming hot coffee from a large plaid thermos into a big ceramic mug that said "I AM the Boss". Of course; Gibbs always came prepared.

"Here." Gibbs shoved the mug in Tony's trembling hands.

Immediately the heat from the mug warmed his fingers. "Th-thanks, Boss." Tony drank the black coffee, not caring that it was bitter. "Good," Tony said with a nod, groaning with pleasure as the hot liquid settled in his stomach and began to warm him up from the inside.

Gibbs grunted and poured himself a cup, which he downed in a few gulps. He removed his own vest and threw it in the trunk on top of Tony's and then gave Tony a hard-eyed inspection. Whatever it was he saw – Tony knew he must look bedraggled but he was all in one piece and none the worse for wear – Gibbs was definitely not a happy camper.

Although Tony's natural instinct was to say something light to diffuse the tension and to prove he was okay, he refrained from saying anything. Gibbs always got like this when things didn't go smoothly, acting somewhere between pissed off and surly and Tony knew enough to wait it out this time. Any moment now, Gibbs would turn to him and yell something like, _'What the hell were you thinking, DiNozzo?_' and Tony would find something bright to say in response, while smiling as if he'd known all along that everything would turn out all right.

Surprisingly enough, Gibbs made a motion towards the car and said sharply, "Get in."

That was it? _Get in?_ Tony blinked and then did as he was told. Gibbs slipped into the driver's seat and cranked up the heat until steam rose from Tony's clothing.

"How's your head?"

"My head?" Tony asked stupidly. Oh yeah, Minor had slammed his ham-fist into his temple. Tony had definitely seen stars at the time, but apart from soreness when he touched it, "Ow," it didn't bother him.

"Stop touching it."

Tony had never been the kind of kid who listened and things hadn't changed much since he'd grown to adulthood. He touched it again. "Ow!"

Gibbs rolled his eyes and said, "We'll let Ducky decide if that warrants an x-ray." He shoved a sweatshirt at Tony. "Here, put this on."

It was Gibbs' own sweatshirt, faded gray with a barely legible Marine Corps logo on the chest. Tony ran the fabric between his fingers, feeling the softness. This was _Gibbs' own sweatshirt_. He'd worn it countless times, probably around the house, to ball games, outside doing yard work, and washed it until it softened. The edges were frayed and there was a hole in one elbow, and the neckline looked as though it sagged when worn. It was obviously comfortable and much-loved.

Gibbs put the car into drive and headed back to the Navy Yard at his usual breakneck speed.

Tony imagined Gibbs had probably worn this sweatshirt to bed on cool nights, loving the feeling of the familiar cloth against his skin. Tony raised it to his nose and gave a sniff. Mmm, smelled clean with a hint of sawdust as well as that indefinable aroma known as Gibbs.

Gibbs turned his head to look at Tony, and the oddest thing happened when he saw Tony holding his sweatshirt to his nose – Gibbs met Tony's eyes and he smiled as if he were remembering some special moment and was sharing it with Tony through that very smile. Tony smiled back, happy because Gibbs was happy even though he had no idea why Gibbs was grinning at him, and Gibbs' smile grew even broader. A second later it was over. Gibbs turned his head and concentrated on driving as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't exposed a very private part of himself to Tony with that all-too-brief look.

Caught somewhere between confusion and happiness, Tony stared sightlessly out the side window and tried to get hold of himself. Being on the receiving end of a pure Gibbs' smile was, apparently, too much for him to handle. It had been fleeting but pretty intense, and Tony was pretty sure that he hadn't done anything to deserve it. He sighed; he was reading too much into this. It was because was coming down from the adrenaline of the chase and capture, and was still a bit lightheaded, he told himself.

_It's only an old sweatshirt. Put it on_. _Accept the gesture, accept that Gibbs cares enough to offer his own clothing to keep you warm._

"Something the matter?"

"No! Nothing, Boss." Gibbs raised an eyebrow in his direction and Tony scrambled for something to say. "Hey, look! We're here! I'll grab a quick shower and get rid of the river crud. I won't be long."

"Make sure you see Ducky about your head," Gibbs said gruffly. He didn't look at Tony again while he dealt with the checkpoint at the main gate and drove into the parking lot. Just the same, Tony could tell Gibbs was wondering what had gotten into his second-in-command. Tony didn't blame him. He didn't often get flustered, but if anyone could do it to him, it was Gibbs. Unfortunately it seemed to be happening with more frequency of late, something Tony didn't understand. He could control this…he knew he could.

As the car came to a halt, Tony carefully placed Gibbs' sweatshirt on the seat between them. "Thanks, anyway, Boss."

Gibbs put the car in park and turned to meet Tony's gaze straight on, but this time there was no smile, no open door into his thoughts. Tony had a strong feeling that something important had just slipped away, that he'd missed a chance that wasn't likely to be repeated again anytime soon. Unexpectedly, his heart ached at a loss he couldn't even begin to comprehend.

Gibbs' gaze sharpened. "You sure you're okay, Tony?"

Tony blinked a couple of times and nodded. "Sure, Boss. Except my shoes are all squishy inside and they were my favorite Zegna sport sneakers. Set me back over $400." Gibbs looked at Tony as if he were crazy – probably floored at the price of the sneakers – and started to say something but Tony spoke over him. "I'll be quick. I'm looking forward to questioning the suspects."

"You want to question Gina? I'll take Minor."

Tony's eyes lit up. "You mean that?"

"You earned it." Gibbs was shaking his head slightly. "Would have been easier if you'd caught Minor before you ended up in the Potomac. Good job though."

Tony couldn't help the foolish grin he knew was plastered all over his face. "Thanks, Boss!" Tony had a strong compulsion to hug Gibbs but instead he jumped out of the car and quickly headed inside before he said or did anything foolish.

※÷※÷※

Talking about feelings was pretty high on Tony's 'I Do _Not_ Want to Do This' list, right above getting any part of his body pierced or tattooed. Still, there was no way around it: it was time he had a conversation with Gibbs. He respected Gibbs, felt connected to him and, even though he'd deny it to anyone who suggested such a thing, he did have feelings for the man. God, there was that word again: feelings.

If Tony stopped long enough to be honest about it, he would acknowledge that those feelings had long since gone beyond admiration and respect, and they were growing stronger all the time. If things were different, if he'd met Gibbs outside of work, if they were living different lives, Tony would have made the moves on him by now. Hell, he'd have done his best to seduce the man and, if Gibbs was at all amenable to man-on-man sex, Tony would have sealed the deal a long time ago.

Only Gibbs didn't swing that way. And besides, Tony had drawn a line in the sand a long time ago, with Gibbs on one side of it and himself on the other. That was firm, as in rock-solid, and would remain that way so there was no point in dreaming about something that would never happen. Tony had managed to suppress his attraction for Gibbs for so many years that he'd just about convinced himself that his regard for his boss was on an entirely professional level. He couldn't allow himself to see Gibbs as anything but a friend and colleague, and he certainly could never permit Gibbs to know how he really felt about him.

※÷※÷※÷※÷※


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks, everyone for your comments! Your enthusiasm, along with the fact that I actually completed this story (yes, it is done, in ten chapters, and I'll post every day), has me working on another tale to share. Thanks again... Rose

**CHAPTER 3 - FOLLOW MY LEAD**

_**A Man Walks Into A Bar... [8.14]**  
Kate: How was I supposed to know what you were planning?  
Tony: Well, we're a team, Kate! You're supposed to follow my lead.  
Kate: Oh, even when I don't know where it's going?  
Tony: Especially then._

"I'm telling you I'm fine," Tony said for the third or fourth time, wishing he could put his shirt back on.

Ducky peered at him over the top of his glasses and made a hmmm sound. "You have a colorful array of contusions to your shoulder and neck." He took hold of Tony's chin and angled his head under the bright examination light. "This is quite a bruise on your temple. However, as you have no symptoms of concussion, I believe that this time we can dispense with the need for an x-ray. Use ice and arnica on those bruises…you know the routine. And you _will_ let me know if you experience any dizziness or–"

"Absolutely." Tony's struggle with Joe Minor had left him with bruises on his right side mostly; his upper arm and shoulder had borne the brunt of the assault. Luckily, his bulletproof vest had protected his ribs. He had one large bruise on his left thigh, and it ached a bit. However, as Ducky had said, the damage wasn't life threatening even if the bruises were likely to turn a lovely shade of purple. "This means you're giving me the all-clear, right?" Tony asked with his most charming smile.

Ducky was not so easily taken in. "Patience, my boy. I have not yet completed the examination. Do you still feel chilly after your dip in the river?"

Tony tried really hard not to give an exasperated sigh. "Well yeah. After all, I _am_ sitting on a freezing cold autopsy table, Ducky." Apparently Ducky was expecting a better answer to his question so Tony relented. "I decontaminated myself in the HazMat shower, changed into dry clothes, took that andrographis extract you recommended, and ordered hot chicken soup for lunch. Speaking of which, it should be waiting for me…" Tony gave an exaggerated glance at his watch. "…right about now."

Ducky, looking at him with skepticism, pulled out his stethoscope. "Allow me to listen to your lungs and then you may go."

Tony breathed in and out and coughed as directed. "I hope you don't want me to bend over," he said sarcastically.

"Perhaps next time," Ducky replied with a straight face.

Once Ducky had finished his exam, Tony said, "I promise I'll notify you at the first sign of a sniffle. Believe me, I do not want to get bronchitis or anything that will mess up my time off this week. Can I go now?"

"Yes, you may go back to work, Anthony. I am sure that Jethro is awaiting you with great impatience," Ducky said, giving a sweeping gesture with one hand.

Tony jumped off the table and pulled on his shirt. "Great! I don't want to be late for the interrogation." Tony wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and said, "Gibbs says I can do Gina." As he hurried out of Autopsy, trying not to limp, Tony could hear Ducky chuckling before the doors whooshed closed.

※÷※÷※

"My husband was a decorated war hero," Gina insisted, stabbing her finger in Tony's direction.

"Ex," corrected Tony.

"What?"

"_Ex_-husband. You were on good terms though. I mean, you lived in the same neighborhood, right? I'd have thought that a good-looking woman like you, Ms. Zarillo, would have moved uptown and enjoyed your new life as a single woman," Tony said smoothly.

Gina _was_ a looker, late thirties, trim, dark hair perfectly coiffed despite her run-in with Gibbs in the park. But Tony knew – in the way he just knew some things in an instinctive way that had little basis in fact – that she had killed her husband. He just didn't know why, and although understanding the suspect was not the goal – getting evidence was – Tony always wanted to know why someone committed a crime.

Tony walked around the interrogation room, stopping in front of the mirror that took up most of one wall. He checked out his hair, smoothing it back at the sides, and gave a satisfied smile. He could just picture Ziva, behind the one-way mirror, pulling a face, and his smile grew even wider.

"I know what it's like though, trying to get past all the memories of that special relationship – good and bad ones. You go from being all sentimental about the good times you had as a couple – to angry as all get-out at the unfairness of it all." Tony took a seat opposite Gina and leaned on the table. "He forced you out of your own home," he said sympathetically.

"I lived there for twelve years, _twelve years_, and Bryce couldn't even let me have the house," she exclaimed. "He barely lived there because he was at sea for months out of the year," Gina said, exasperation coloring her voice. "If I'd known when I married him, what being in the service would do to him, to our lives… It _ruined_ our marriage! But Bryce was retiring soon. Things were going to turn around. He'd be home all the time, and we'd back together, and I'd finally be back in my own home."

"He told you this?" Tony questioned gently.

"Not in so many words, no, but this was our chance for things to be like they used to when we were first married. And I was not going to let Bryce mess it up this time!" Gina leaned forward and spoke to Tony as if he were a confidante. "You're Navy, right?"

"Technically, NCIS is–"

She waved a well-manicured hand at Tony and cut him off. "So tell me, what is it with you Navy guys when you go out to sea?"

Tony wasn't sure what she was getting at but he was willing to play along. "My only experience on shipboard was as Agent Afloat, ma'am. Let's just say that I was happy to get back on terra firma."

"So then you get it," she said insistently. "You know Navy guys."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Well, I know one of them pretty well." He was trying to get a feel for where Gina's anger was coming from but the reason she'd killed her husband was remaining elusive. Had her ex-husband rejected her idea they should get back together? There had to be something more to this; he could feel it.

Even though Gina hadn't actually said the words, Tony knew she had killed her husband. He'd get a confession out of her yet.

Gina's eyes narrowed and she pointed a finger accusingly at Tony. "Then you know how guys onboard go crazy for sex, like they're frat boys or something. All those randy sailors have nowhere to go for entertainment." She looked quizzically at Tony. "You think it's the salt air, or what they feed them or something?"

Tony humored Gina and said, as if he knew it for a fact, "Oh, it's definitely the salt air." More likely the close quarters with hundreds of other men and only your own hand to take care of business.

She nodded and said, "So there's Bryce, stuck out in the ocean, with no hope of getting laid. He was always ready for a good time when we were together even though he was pushing fifty. Believe me, I knew all about what was going on aboard that ship. All the wives did. Some of them kicked up a fuss, complained to the COs – fat lot of good that did."

Tony was about to start asking some hard questions when Gina laid her hand on his forearm and said, "Look, I figured it was better that way, because that wasn't like cheating. Not like if they'd been with a woman, you know? Because they were doing it for relief, for their health, not because they were gay or anything like that. It's a guy thing, a _sailor_ thing. What did he call it? Um…the low down…?"

"The lowdown on the down-low," Tony said in an understanding tone. _Now_ he understood the situation better. He brought the questioning back on track. "When Lieutenant Foreman returned on leave two weeks ago, I'll bet the two of you spent some quality time together."

Gina smiled. "We had coffee together, at the house, and talked. Well, I talked and Bryce listened. He's real good at listening."

"At whose house was that?"

"Our home, the one we bought together when we first married."

The way Gina spoke, Tony could tell how much she loved the place that had once been her home. He could also tell she hadn't let go of the past and was dangerously close to being delusional. Tony asked gently, "And did you see Bryce again after that?"

It looked like he'd hit a sore point from Gina's expression. "It was like he was never home. I called him yesterday morning and he said he was too busy. Too busy with that _housemate_ of his," she spat.

"Housemate? You mean Joe Minor," Tony said.

Gina crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah. Bryce knew Joe from way back. They were stationed together for a while, but then Joe got injured and retired early. My husband offered him a place to stay. That's when _it_ started."

Tony had a good idea of what 'it' was. "It started when Joe moved into your house, with Bryce?"

Gina was silent for a minute and then said in a subdued voice, "Bryce swore to me that Joe meant nothing to him. He _swore_ to me they were just friends, military buddies," she said, her voice rising. "But then…I went over there yesterday afternoon. I know he said he was busy but I went anyway." She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaled deeply and said, "Joe was there. _With_ my husband."

"You saw them together." Tony pictured Gina walking into what had once been her home, finding her ex-husband, presumably in a compromising position with Joe, and he almost felt sorry for her. "Can you describe what you saw?"

"My husband was going to come back to me, I know he was!" Gina cried. "But I saw them together! I saw them – _kissing_! They weren't supposed to do that! He'd told me it was on the down-low. It was only sex, he said, because he couldn't help it, because a man has needs. There is no kissing, not _ever_. Kissing means you love someone but…but I saw him…" She raised a trembling hand to her mouth and then lowered it to say, "He was _kissing_ _Joe_! How could he do that to me? Why would he hurt me like that? I was so angry I wanted to…to…" There were tears of anguish in Gina's eyes when she sobbed, "I ran out. I don't think they even knew I was there. I went to the range to blow off some steam and a couple of hours later I decided to go back to talk to Bryce."

"Did you take a gun from the range?"

Gina nodded. "We had to have it out," she reasoned. "He was just pulling in so I walked into the garage to meet him. I was going to talk to him, that's all, to remind him about his vows to me. He was still in his car and…I could _smell_ that bastard's cologne on him. All I could think of was, Bryce should never have been kissing Joe like that, and I got angry, like really angry," Gina said in a tight little voice.

"Angry enough to hurt Bryce?" Tony asked.

Gina looked at Tony, surprised. "You have to understand, I _love_ my husband. I love him to death."

※÷※÷※

Outside the interview room, Ziva and Tony watched as an agent took Gina Zarillo away to a holding cell.

Ziva asked Tony, "How is it you managed to interrogate a suspect without messing up your hair?" She reached out playfully to touch Tony's hair but he raised his hands.

"Not the hair! Having great hair is a skill set known to be common among young American males from Long Island, Ms. David." Gibbs and McGee came out of the other interrogation room and Tony called out, smiling smugly, "Hey, Boss! I got a signed confession. How'd you do with Minor?"

Gibbs said, as the team headed for the elevator, "You first, DiNozzo."

"It's a long, sad story, Boss."

"Yeah, well you've got until we reach our floor."

As they stepped into the elevator, Tony reported, speaking fast, "While in a blind rage, Ms. Zarillo – who bought a .22 handgun for protection from a man at the gun range a month ago – chased her ex-husband into the garage and shot him while he was sitting in his car. The interior was such a mess, so _Pulp Fiction_ with no Harvey Keitel in sight – you've seen the movie, right? – that she decided to dump him in the nearest body of water. She somehow pushed his body out of her way enough so she could get behind the wheel. Drove to the pond and rolled the car into the water, then walked home. It's only two miles. Apparently she didn't know the water was only a few feet deep and it wasn't going to wash away the evidence." As the elevator doors opened, Tony finished up hurriedly. "Gina Zarillo is not a lady you want to mess with."

"Good job, DiNozzo," said Gibbs as he strode towards the bullpen.

"Really? I mean thanks, Boss!"

"Make sure you fill out the BH/140/A and B forms," Gibbs ordered.

For a moment, Tony couldn't remember what those forms were for, but Ziva smiled knowingly and said, "Bodily harm. You really should learn how to handle suspects without leaving any marks on them, Tony."

"Wait, what marks? You mean on Minor?"

McGee added, "He has bruises to his face and a possible sprained wrist. He asked for a doctor."

Tony pointed to his own head. "I got hurt, too! Doesn't he get any demerits for hitting me?"

Gibbs eyed the bruise on Tony's temple and his expression grew dark. "This isn't a game, DiNozzo."

"Minor started it," Tony complained.

Gibbs stopped and narrowed his eyes. "What did Ducky say? You cleared for field work?"

Tony said in a weary voice, "He said to take two and call him in the morning." Gibbs was frowning and looked like he wanted to slap him, so Tony quickly reported, "I've got some bruises but otherwise I'm fine. I promised to notify Ducky if anything changes." Tony still felt a bit cold from being soaked but otherwise he really was fine.

Gibbs looked Tony up and down and nodded, apparently believing him.

Once the team was arranged around the plasma, Gibbs briefed the team on Joe Minor's side of the story. Joe had admitted he'd been meeting his longtime lover, Lieutenant Bryce Foreman, and they'd exercise together in the park most evenings. Minor would fit it in before he went to work, on the night shift. They'd go down to the river and talk about their future, he'd said.

Ziva asked, "Did he know Gina killed Lt. Foreman?"

"Not until I broke the news to him," replied Gibbs.

"Was he okay?" Tony could tell, from the way Gibbs spoke, that Minor had been upset. Who wouldn't be distraught when you were told your lover had been killed? Informing someone that a loved one had died a senseless death was difficult and heartbreaking, which was one reason Tony avoided that duty whenever possible.

"No, he wasn't okay," Gibbs said curtly. "His partner was just murdered." Gibbs stood staring at the plasma, on which the faces of the three principal characters were displayed, along with evidence that Gina Zarillo had murdered her ex-husband.

While the team waited for direction, McGee traded a brief look with Ziva, who shrugged; they knew something was off with their team leader but knew enough not to question him about it.

As agents, they saw so much death, and dealt with their fair share of traumatized and grieving people, that they became somewhat desensitized to it. They still empathized but as professionals they were able to distance themselves to some extent. Like his colleagues in law enforcement, Tony had his own way of dealing with the fallout, later on, on his time. Alcohol, exercise, sex – they were all tools to cope with the horrific, the unthinkable things they had to deal with on a daily basis.

But sometimes the ability to shield oneself failed, and once the landslide began it was difficult to recover your footing.

Tony knew he should leave Gibbs alone. Instead he moved closer in an attempt to let Gibbs know he was there for him. _'I got your back, Boss.'_

Suddenly Gibbs relaxed and, without looking directly at his agents, he said, "You waiting for an invitation, McGee?"

"No, Boss." Not even a little bit flustered, McGee began to relate what they'd learned from their interview with Minor. "Gina called Minor early this morning and told him she had something important to talk to him about."

Gibbs shifted his weight and glanced at Tony the same moment that Tony looked his way. Their eyes met only briefly, but Gibbs nodded slightly before turning his attention back towards the large screen. Even though the acknowledgment had been small, it was enough to satisfy Tony.

McGee said, "Minor figured Gina knew about him and her ex-husband but he had no clue how dangerous she was."

"Big mistake," said Gibbs with a small snort.

McGee clicked at the plasma and a series of images taken by the park security cameras appeared. "Minor went directly from work to meet her in the park. He chose the location because it was halfway between his office and home. His shift had just ended and hadn't gone home yet so he had no clue what she'd done." Tim's expression clearly showed that he sympathized with the man. "That woman ruined three people's lives with one bullet."

Nodding, Tony said, "If Minor had been home last night, he'd probably be dead, too. He's a lucky guy."

"I don't think Minor feels very lucky, Tony," Tim said. "He said that Foreman was about to retire and they were going to finally be able to be together."

"Together?" asked Ziva.

McGee nodded. "They planned to tell friends and family that they were moving down to Florida as soon as Foreman left active service. They knew that Gina was under the delusion that her ex was going to get back with her. The two men wanted to let her down easy."

"Only she found out the hard way and did not like what she learned," Ziva said with a nod.

"Minor couldn't believe it when he saw a gun in her hand," said Gibbs.

Tony raised a finger. "Wait a minute. Back in the park, why did Minor run from us if he had nothing to do with Lt. Foreman's death?"

McGee supplied the reason. He brought up Minor's bank records on the big screen. "Gambling debts. Minor was in for some big bucks. He'd been paying them off but he told us that he'd been threatened because he wasn't repaying his loan fast enough. So when he saw a couple of guys with weapons chasing him, he took off."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Like I didn't shout, 'Stop, NCIS'?"

"Guess he didn't believe you, DiNozzo. Maybe you need to practice your 'halt and desist' order in front of the mirror some more," Gibbs said with a small smirk as he sat at his desk. "Paperwork, people. Let's wrap this up or your road trip isn't gonna happen."

"Hey, I don't use a mirror to practice in front of….any more," Tony retaliated, running a hand over his hair.

Ziva shook her head in disbelief. "I did not believe it was Ms. Zarillo who pulled the trigger – not because she was a woman but because she showed no signs of guilt. There were no tells. She does not feel any remorse for what she has done."

"You can't always tell by looking deep into their eyes, Ziva, unless you're Gibbs, who is the criminal whisperer." Tony smiled wisely at Ziva. "Like I said, it's always the ex who turns out to be the cold-blooded killer."

"You say it is always the _wife_," Ziva corrected, sitting at her desk. "So, technically you are wrong, Tony."

"Perhaps, but in this case, Ziva, my little ninja, it was the possessive, delusional ex-wife who_ done him in_, as Eliza Doolittle would say, and I figure that's close enough to earn me a gold star from the teacher."

Ziva looked suspiciously at Tony. "Are saying that Joseph Minor or Lieutenant Foreman were having an affair with this Eliza Doolittle as well as with each other? A threesome?"

McGee smiled and even Gibbs chuckled.

Tony explained, "No, my fair lady, but I have a lovely musical on DVD you _have_ to watch."

※÷※÷※÷※÷※


	4. Chapter 4

Note: I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I tried not to make Tony sound too harsh or disillusioned, yet wanted him to tell a lot of truths. Hope you enjoy it! And thanks for the many comments.

**CHAPTER 4 - A PARTY OF ONE**

_**The Penelope Papers [9.3]  
**Tony: Yes. I know. I got it. For the hundred and eighty-eighth time I got it. Yes...the balloons and the streamers. I know. I know. What? No, no, no. No strippers this year. No. I gotta' go, I'll call you back.  
Ziva: Planning a party, Tony?  
DiNozzo: Not exactly. It's my father's birthday. He's planning. I'm paying…in all kinds of ways._

The whole team worked quickly and efficiently to conduct additional interviews and obtain the necessary statements in order to wrap up the case in record time. The paperwork was complete and filed by the time five o'clock on Sunday rolled around and Abby insisted they all go out for pizza and a drink. "We can make it our own version of a holiday dinner for those of us who can't make it on this trip," she said enthusiastically. "We can watch your movie at the restaurant, Tony. I checked and they'll put it on the TV for us."

Despite having a headache, Tony relented, as most of his colleagues would have left for the holidays the next morning and this was their last chance to get together. They ended up in an Irish pizza restaurant that was decked out in seasonal decorations and lights, and even Tony agreed that it looked quite festive.

Tim arrived with Abby, and soon Jimmy and Breena showed up with Dornie in tow. Ziva and Ducky surprised them by appearing just as they sat down in the back room that Abby had reserved. Tony kept an eye on the door just in case Gibbs decided to join them, even though he knew there was a slim chance of that happening. After half an hour he had to tell himself not to be an idiot, and to stop looking.

Sure enough, _It's a Wonderful Life_ was playing on the wall-mounted TV, although nobody paid much attention to the classic film while they ate and talked. After the team had demolished a dozen pizzas and who knows how many beers, Abby discovered that the jukebox had the Oozing Dead's latest song on its play list and they ended up dancing for a while. When they returned to their table for drinks and more food, Tony found himself sitting between Abby and Ducky.

Ducky leaned towards Tony and said, in a low voice that Tony could hear, "Although this is a time for revelry, may I suggest that you abstain from drinking any more alcohol? Its effects will only acerbate any ill-effects you may have from the injuries you received yesterday."

"I think I know my limits," Tony replied, a bit annoyed that the ME was butting in. Besides, the headache he'd come in with wasn't quite so bad now that he'd thrown back a few beers. But when Tony saw that Ducky was genuinely concerned he said patiently, "I really am okay. Anyway, we're not making a long night of it. These guys are leaving early in the morning and I have to go to work tomorrow." The hard and fast rule was 'no drinking on a school night' but tonight was an exception, what with the holidays. And anyway, it wasn't like Gibbs was there to show his disapproval. Tony looked hopefully at the doorway once again, even though by this time it was obvious that Gibbs wasn't going to join them.

At Breena's urging, the team members began telling stories about their holiday experiences as kids. Tim told a funny story about when he was six, and how he got stuck in the chimney while investigating how Santa could possibly enter the house through such a narrow space; Ducky contributed a description of the traditional Christmas food of his childhood, some of which involved offal; and Abby had them all laughing at her story about how she and her siblings had tied live crawfish to the Christmas tree as decorations, only it fell over and the little critters made for the door, dragging the tree behind them. "It was a small tree," Abby said when faced by their disbelief.

Not long after, the conversation turned to the subject of marriage, with Jimmy and Breena holding hands while they talked about the pleasures and drawbacks of marriage. "Not that there is anything to complain about," Jimmy quickly amended.

"I applaud you for finding true love," said Ziva, nodding wisely. "Somehow, I do not believe that I could dedicate myself to one person for a lifetime. Still, there _have_ been times I have wished to have a child of my own, a baby to nurture and cherish, and so perhaps some day…"

Tim tried to hide his laughter from Ziva but got an elbow in the ribs anyway.

"You wouldn't know what to do with a kid if you had one," Tony scoffed. "Just think about all those sharp objects that would poke the poor kid's eye out."

Slighted, Ziva asked, "This, coming from the man who trembles at the sight of a toddler?"

"Ah, what you really mean is: the man who is never asked to babysit," Tony replied with a bright smile. "Besides, you need to hook a guy first. Just saying, love and marriage…"

"Don't shoot down Ziva's dreams, guys." Abby leaned closer to Ziva and said helpfully, "It's not like you need a man to have a baby. You get a test-tube donation and use a handy turkey baster. Or visit a sperm bank and put in an order. Tony knows all about sperm banks, don't you, Tony?"

"Eeew! Not while we're eating, Abby," protested Tim. "Besides, can you imagine Ziva's eggs meeting Tony's sperm? They'd bitch and squabble and then killed each other with pointy objects. How many years ago was that donation anyway, Tony? Twenty? The little squigglers must have expired by now."

Going along with his teammate's ribbing, Tony smiled and said, "It was when I was in college so I'm sure my donation has long since gone down the drain."

Ducky interjected. "Actually, not likely. The results of a study presented at the Annual Scientific Meeting of the American Urological Association show that it makes no difference to success rates as to the age of the sperm used, providing it is adequately stored. The issue from young virile males can be quite vigorous and–"

"Please, someone, make it stop," pled Tony, dropping his head into his hands.

Dornie patted his back with a clumsy hand. "Like Oscar Wilde said, 'A person can do stupid things for good motives.'"

Ducky raised his glass in a toast. "To Oscar Wilde."

Tony shook his head. "Sorry to burst your bubble, Dornie, but I did it for money."

"Oh, and what else have you done for money, Tony?" asked Ziva, needling him.

Tim saved Tony from having to respond by pointing out, "There _are_ worse thing than being married, you know."

"There _are_?" Tony asked.

"Sure. Like going through a divorce," Tim replied with a smirk. "And, in your case, Jimmy: in-laws. No disrespect to you, Breena."

Breen smiled graciously. "That's okay, Tim. Everybody here knows what my dad's like by now. Luckily Mom's good nature more than makes up for Dad."

Raising his chin slightly, Jimmy countered, "I can't imagine things ever getting so bad between us that we can't solve our issues by talking about them. Even if we have our ups and downs, Breena and I find something new to love about each other every day."

Breena hugged Jimmy and kissed him on the cheek. "You're so sweet, honey."

McGee smiled at the couple. "Seeing you two together shows us that there is hope…for _some_ of us, anyway."

Tony scoffed, "Hope for what? Don't you find it interesting that the only people sitting at this table who have what might be termed 'a normal marriage' are Jimmy and Breena – and that both of them have parents who are still married? Abby's folks broke up when she was a kid; Dornie, you don't know who your dad was; Timmy's father always used the Navy as an excuse to stay at sea."

"Tony!" Abby protested, but Tony continued. "Ducky was created in a Scottish laboratory so we can't count him but Ziva, _your_ father…" Ziva was giving Tony such a narrow-eyed glare that he skipped talking about her parents. "Mine, well, you all know my dad's lousy track record. He also had plenty of affairs in between all of his 'it'll be forever' vows."

"How many times _has_ he been married, Tony?" asked Tim.

"I've lost count; around seven…I think. As Dad likes to say, 'Don't advertise your failures.'"

Abby said in an encouraging tone, "At least your dad tries, Tony."

Tony shook his head. "C'mon, with all the stress and crap that comes with our line of work, even if we somehow convince someone to marry us, odds are there'll be a divorce within the year. And then there's all the emotional turmoil… No, it's not worth it."

"That is a rather negative mindset, my dear boy," tutted Ducky. "Mr. Palmer and his beautiful wife are setting a fine example of the virtues of marriage."

"It's all about making your spouse happy," said Breena. She gazed into Jimmy's eyes and smiled lovingly. "It's when their happiness matters more than your own." Jimmy blushed and kissed her.

"What chance do any of us have?" Tony took a deep pull on his beer and said, "Just look at us: Timmy is into cyber-sex, Abby spends all her free time helping others, and Dornie…hey, Dornie, do you even have a sex life?"

Dornie turned pink. "I'm seeing someone," he admitted.

"Good for you," Tony, meaning it. He reminded himself he should take Dornie out to lunch soon and catch up. "Anyone want some shots?" Tony signaled the waitress and gave her an order for a round and some munchies.

Tim turned to Tony and asked, "And what about you? You don't brag about your conquests half as much as you used to. Not that I'm complaining or anything, because getting an earful of your exploits first thing in the morning is not a good way to start my day."

"I had no idea I was slacking, Timmy. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. I'll make sure to come directly to you first thing and tell you all about my latest date, McCurious."

Instead of backing down, Tim asked, "Doesn't it get old? All those one-night stands?"

"Not at all. It's like discovering a new delicacy every time I go out with someone new," Tony said. The shots arrived and Tony downed one immediately, hoping someone would change the subject – and soon. He looked up at the TV screen where _It's a Wonderful Life_ was still playing. As Clarence talked, Tony spoke the words along with him: "'Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?'"

"There's more to life than taste-testing, Tony," Abby said quietly.

"Think of it as a never-ending culinary exploration, Abby," Tony said with a smile, still watching the movie. He glanced at his colleagues seated around the table but the conversation about marriage had petered out. Jimmy and Breena were occupied discussing the route they planned to take the next day with Tim, and Ducky was asking to the waitress about the white wine selection as he ordered for Ziva and himself.

Abby hugged Tony's arm and leaned into him. "But you deserve so much more, Tony, something permanent."

"I believe that permanence is overrated." Tony had lost count of how many drinks he'd had, and after the shot he had a serious buzz going on. He was pretty sure that he'd regret everything he said tonight but as everyone else had been tossing them back, too, maybe nobody would remember come morning. He said to Abby, "Just look at our team leader. Not only has Gibbs been married multiple times, but every time any potential Mrs. Gibbs comes too close, he veers away. There is no long-term commitment in our fearless leader's future, and his women had better come to terms with that."

Tim turned towards Tony, interested in the conversation. "His women?"

Tony said, "Sure, Vivienne, aka the 'Mysterious Redhead,' and Jenny, Hollis Mann, Ms. Hart, Holly Snow. We can't forget the lovely and sneaky Doc Ryan, who always answers a question with one of her own. And then there's Dr. Cranston, though I'm not so sure if that went anywhere, what with her being a shrink. We all know how Gibbs feels about shrinks."

It was obvious from Tim's expression that he didn't entirely believe Tony. "You're casting a wide net, Tony. You think that Gibbs sleeps with every woman he meets? He's not like you. Okay, I'll give you Mann and Ryan, but with the others? You're guessing."

"You sure I don't know what I'm talking about, Probie?" Tony asked with a gleam in his eye. "I know that as soon as it gets serious, it's shut down the engines time. Gibbs shifts into neutral until the next prospect comes along and then he enjoys her company for a while. But as soon as she starts rearranging the furniture, it's time to pull up the anchor and heave ho. Round and round we go." Tony swayed a little in his seat.

Ducky leaned towards Tony and said quietly, "I believe you are mixing your metaphors. Perhaps this is a good time for us to take our leave. I will drive you home, Anthony."

He might need a ride home but not yet. Plus, he hated leaving his car in a parking lot overnight. "Nah, I'm okay, Ducky." Tony stood and gripped the back of his chair while he looked around for a waitress, but found himself face to face with none other than Leroy Jethro Gibbs. It was impossible to read Gibbs' expression in the dimly lit bar, so Tony braved it and called out, "Hey, Gibbs! You finally came! Wanna beer?"

"Nope," Gibbs replied evenly.

Tony raised his empty bottle in a toast. "Here's to Cap'n Gibbs, Master and Commander!"

Ducky touched Tony's arm and said quietly, "Anthony, perhaps it is advisable that you are not alone tonight. After everything you went through today."

Uh oh, Ducky was calling him 'Anthony.' Tony slapped the ME on the back and said, "Nah, I'm fine alone. You know, they say solitude is a _good_ kind of loneliness. At least you don't have anyone complaining when you drink milk out of the carton, or leave dirty socks in the living room or wet towels on the floor or…or… You only have yourself to worry about, and that's more than enough worrying for me. You're free to be you, to sleep with whoever the fuck you want to sleep with, with no strings attached. So what if you leave a trail of broken relationships behind you? Who says that marriage is the answer to everything? Just ask Gibbs here." Tony motioned towards Gibbs as if he expected him to agree. Instead, his boss just stood there like a statue – a rather imposing, frowning statue – one with nice shoulders and shiny hair that sort of glowed like silver on top where the lights hit it.

Tony said, "I don't see what the big deal is about marriage. I don't _get_ it. No offense to you and Breena, Jimmy, my autopsy gremlin but…" Tony swayed a little and burped. "Gotta take a piss," he said and stumbled towards the restroom.

Tony could feel Gibbs behind him, and when he lurched towards the urinal and threw up, it was Gibbs' hands that steadied him.

※÷※÷※÷※÷※


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5 - DESPERATE MAN**

_**A Desperate Man [9.13]  
**Tony: Listen don't beat yourself up. It's no way you could of seen it coming it's no way any of us could of seen it coming. You'll find somebody, someday.  
Ziva: I'm not sure I want to. I don't think children and marriage are a part of the plan for me right now and I am fine with that perfectly, perfectly content with my life.  
Tony: Content…but are you happy?  
Ziva: Are you? _

Abby sat on the edge of Tony's bed and gently placed a damp washcloth on his forehead.

"I make an ass of myself?"

"Yes."

Tony held his head and groaned.

"C'mon, it wasn't too bad, unless you count puking on Gibbs' shoes," Abby said with a grin.

"Please. Don't say that word," Tony begged, his voice cracking. His mouth tasted disgusting and he stank of beer and sweat, to say nothing of vomit.

"What word?"

"P - u - k - e," Tony spelled. He started to sit up but the room veered off to one side and his stomach lurched so he laid his head back down and took some shallow breaths. That helped a bit with the nausea, but his head was killing him. The washcloth seemed to have fallen somewhere. "Tell me I didn't say anything offensive."

"Not unless you count you declaring that all marriages were doomed, that you would do anything for a buck, and that Ziva was likely to poke her own kids' eyes out if she became a parent."

Tony stared at Abby and asked weakly, "I said that?"

Abby nodded, beaming. "And then Gibbs walked in when you were in the middle of a critique his dating habits."

"Oh God, kill me now."

"Oh, come on Tony. They'll all forgive you because they're family and that's what family does," Abby pointed out. "Except, I'm not so sure about Gibbs. I almost swallowed my tongue when he walked in – although it really isn't as easy as you'd think to swallow your tongue because it's rooted to the floor of your mouth by the lingual–"

Tony grabbed Abby's arm. "I'll call in sick tomorrow and he'll forget by the time everybody's back at work, right?"

Abby laughed at Tony, shaking her head. "Tony, Gibbs drove you home! Remember?"

"No…"

"And undressed you," she said gleefully. "You walked to your door, if you can call staggering like a zombie walking, and then collapsed on your bed."

Tony realized he was clad in an undershirt. He peeked under the covers and was relieved to see he was still wearing his briefs. Still, the thought of Gibbs stripping his clothes off when he was unconscious was somehow unsettling. "Gibbs…? Is he still here?"

With a nod that sent her pigtails bouncing, Abby said, "He's out in your kitchen, figuring out how to use your coffee maker."

Tony vaguely recalled someone shoving him into a car and sticking a plastic bag in his hand. Had that been Gibbs? Now that Abby mentioned it, Tony detected the aroma of his rich South American coffee emanating from his kitchen. That was Gibbs, drinking Tony's coffee while he decided on his fate. Tony raised his forearm to cover his eyes. "D'you think they'd hire me at the FBI?"

"They'd snap you up in a nano-second, but you don't want to leave NCIS," Abby said dismissively. "You know, Tony, you should stop worrying. It wasn't like anything you said was…untrue."

"Just not very nice of me to say." Tony lowered his arm in time to see a wicked smile on Abby's face. "What's so funny?"

"It's just that I've always pictured Ziva a black widow spider eating her young, so the thought of her taking care of babies raises all sorts of alarms. By the way," Abby said, changing subjects smoothly. "Dornie told me he's been dating that cute guy, Narino Remirez, in accounting."

Now that was interesting. "You mean the short guy with the thick glasses who wears those vintage bow ties?"

"Yeah, that's him. He's cute, don't you think, in a nebbish sort of way?"

"Maybe, but I'm not into nebbish, Abby. Can you get me some water?"

She didn't budge. "What _are_ you into then?"

"I don't know. Something more…woodsy."

"Like a lumberjack?" She looked past Tony and smiled widely. "Oh, hey Gibbs! We were just talking about you."

Tony turned his head to see Gibbs leaning nonchalantly against the open doorway, a coffee mug in one hand. "Hey, Boss," he said weakly. Gibbs grunted but he had a funny half-smile on his lips so Tony figured he wasn't about to get reamed.

"You take a dose of truth serum tonight, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

Tony wished he had such an excuse. It seemed as though the truth was in order so he said, "Okay, maybe I knocked back a few too many."

"Ya think?" Gibbs said with a slight snort.

Abby fetched Tony a glass of water and left him alone with Gibbs, saying she was going to find something to eat. "I'm famished."

Tony leaned against the headboard and slowly drank some water, warily watching Gibbs approach over the rim of the glass. When Gibbs sat on the bed in the spot where Abby had just been, Tony almost spilled the remaining water.

And when Gibbs laid the back of his hand – ever so gently – on Tony's cheek and then on his forehead, and said, "You feeling okay? You're a little warm," Tony almost fainted.

Tony swallowed and nodded even though he felt light-headed. "I-I'm okay." The alcohol he'd consumed that evening was still affecting him, that much was obvious, because he'd swear that Gibbs was looking at him…well, tenderly, and Tony didn't know what to make of it. "How about you?" he asked.

Gibbs slowly retracted his hand. "Hey, I'm not the one who thought it was a good idea to drink so soon after getting punched in the head."

"Oh, that. But that was yesterday."

"Yeah, _that_," said Gibbs, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the bruises on Tony's neck and temple. His lips tightened as if he were trying to refrain from speaking his mind.

As Gibbs always spoke his mind, Tony was even more confused about what was going on with his boss. Maybe Gibbs was saving it for tomorrow, when Tony was back on his feet. This was as good a time as any for Tony to ask for forgiveness. "Um…I need to apologize to you for…well, for using your marriages as an example of what not to get yourself into…"

"My history with marriages isn't exactly a secret," Gibbs said brusquely. He pulled out an aspirin bottle shook a couple of pills into his palm. "For your head."

"How'd you know?" Tony gave a little laugh. "Oh yeah, silly question." Tony swallowed the medication and drained the glass, expecting that Gibbs would then leave. But instead, Gibbs remained seated, close enough to make Tony feel a bit nervous. It was weird, no doubt about it. He'd been working with the man for over ten years and he'd never ever known his boss to give off these kind of vibes before. It was as though Gibbs had dialed down his gruffness about ten notches and was making up for it by exuding a warmth that he usually saved for women and children in need of a strong shoulder to lean upon.

Wishing he had a good excuse to lean on Gibbs' shoulder, Tony said softly, "You know, even if your marriages didn't work out, I know you always tried your best, Gibbs. That's the kind of man you are. You focus on something and then you do your damndest to do it right, whatever the job at hand might be."

Gibbs said in a rough voice, "I went into each marriage believing that it was going to work." He shrugged one shoulder slightly. "Just the same, the best laid plans…"

"See, that's where the big difference between us lies. You tried, and several times, which means you're either very brave or very tenacious – or both. Me? I don't see the point in even trying." Tony thought of how he'd put everything he had into his relationship with Wendy, to the point of proposing to her, offering her a life together. He'd believed in them but look how quickly that had gone south. And Jeanne…his mind had known, right from the start, that no good could come of it, but his heart had become involved despite his efforts to remain distant. There was a reason there was a hard and fast rule about keeping your undercover and real life separate.

"You're young, Tony. You'll find someone, make that commitment," said Gibbs, even though they both knew that it was one thing getting married and another being able to keep that marriage intact.

Tony asked, a hard edge to his voice, "Why would I invest anything in a relationship when I know it's never going to amount to anything? I've seen first-hand just how miserable two people get when the cookie starts to crumble, and when it really starts to fall apart they take it out on each other – and the kids, if they have any. I lived through three of my father's divorces before I was fifteen and I _never_ want to go through that again." Trying to lighten the mood, Tony smiled ruefully and said, "Besides, women can tell after just one date with me that I'm not that forever kinda guy they're looking for. But, you know what? I show them a really good time and we enjoy it while it lasts. No strings attached."

Gibbs took the empty glass from Tony's hand. "Don't sell yourself short, Tony. I might have nothing good to say about marriage but I _did_ have a good one, and even now I believe it would have been a lifelong commitment if we'd had the chance." Gibbs stared at the glass in his hands before placing it carefully on the bedside table.

Oh hell, now he'd made Gibbs sad. "Sorry I brought it up," Tony said with a faint smile.

Gibbs replied quietly, "It's okay. Like Abby said, you told the truth tonight. Only…I hope, when the opportunity presents itself, and it will, that you give her a chance." Gibbs patted Tony's knee and stood. "And that's the last advice I'll ever give on the subject. I'll see you tomorrow. Don't let Abby keep you up late."

"Tomorrow?" For a moment Tony couldn't think what day it was.

"Monday. Just because everyone else is off gallivanting doesn't mean our work comes to a grinding halt, DiNozzo."

"Course not, Boss." Tony watched Gibbs stop in the doorway to have a few words with Abby but he closed his eyes and didn't listen to their conversation.

"Tony?"

Reluctantly, Tony opened his eyes again, thinking he had to get up sometime and get into something more comfortable. And cleaned up, too, because he stunk of beer and sickness. He noticed that Abby had changed into some nightwear that looked like one his old Who t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants that had shrunk in the wash. "Hey Abbs, nice get-up."

"I borrowed some of your clothes," Abby admitted. She threw herself on Tony's bed with a giggle, one pigtail smacking in the face as she settled next to him. The bed was a bit too narrow for the both of them but Abby didn't seem to mind.

Tony asked, "Why're you here, again?"

"Protective detail," she said with a grin. "Or slumber party, depending on how you look at it." Abby gently placed one hand on Tony's cheek in a gesture that was strangely similar to Gibbs', and for a moment Tony's breathing faltered. Abby said, "Ducky was worried because of you getting hit on the head earlier and then drinking."

"I'm okay, just tired," Tony said, forcing himself into a sitting position. His head was swimming but the pervasive headache wasn't quite as bad as when he'd first woken up. His shoulder, however, was aching like crazy and if he didn't do something about it now, he'd be stiff and in pain by morning.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Tony told Abby and slowly made his way to the bathroom. The bruises on his upper shoulder and neck were becoming quite colorful, as Ducky had foreseen. Luckily, the purple lump on his temple was half-hidden by his hair, so its presence didn't shout to the world that a suspect had gotten the better of him. The hot water took some of the ache out of his stiff shoulder, and after he'd dried off and applied some arnica and aspercream, Tony felt a bit better.

Abby was lying on his bed, her head propped up on one hand, a grin plastered on her face.

Tony got into bed, and put an arm around Abby's shoulders when she snuggled up to him. "What're you so happy about?"

Abby gently poked Tony in the ribs. "I want to hear all about it."

"Hey, watch out for my bruises! All about what?"

"I'm so sorry, Tony. Did you get hurt badly?"

"Nah. It'd be a lot worse if it wasn't for the Kevlar."

"I'll say a special prayer to the gods of the Kevlar then. Now, I want to hear all about whatever's got you all twisted up over relationships, Tony. I know you've always had trouble with the big C-word." She whispered, "_Commitment_. But this is something new. I get it: committing to one person means giving all of yourself to them. There's a lot of anxiety and fear involved, to say nothing of the doubt that this is the right thing to do because it's a _forever_ thing. I mean, you'll be spending the rest of your life with this one person. It's so _final_."

Final? Hearing it said aloud made the whole idea of commitment all the more scary. "Gee, Abs, you're not helping. It's getting late, and I really don't want to talk about this."

"You were certainly up on your soapbox earlier," she said.

"I think I've said enough, Abs."

"And I think there's a lot you're not saying." She raised her head so she could look directly into Tony's eyes. "What was that hand-holding about? That's so not Gibbs. He must be really worried about you."

Tony could feel himself getting hot. "C'mon, you know Gibbs doesn't get touchy-feely. He was checking to see if I had a temperature," he said defensively. "Just making sure I won't call in sick tomorrow because I'm the only one working." It hit Tony that with everyone gone, he'd be alone with his boss all the next day, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. His car was still in the restaurant parking lot, he remembered. "How're you getting home?"

Abby said, "Timmy said he'd swing by to pick me up first thing. We'll go to my place to get my bag before we meet up with the others. Last chance to come with us…"

"I can't. I'm working. Oh shit…I can't deal with Gibbs when I have a huge hangover. I'll have to make myself a defibrillator for breakfast."

Abby shuddered. "Raw eggs? Yuck. But you haven't answered my question."

Tony closed his eyes and grunted. He really was tired and even if Abby was his best friend, there were some things he didn't want to talk over with her – personal things that he hadn't even sorted out in his own mind yet. If he told Abby, even gave her a hint, she'd be all over him for more details. No, these cards he planned to hold close to the chest.

"Hey, no playing 'possum, Tony."

Tony sighed and looked at Abby through half-closed eyes. This was not good. He had to give her something or she'd pester him all night long. "'kay, if I tell you, will you lemme get some sleep?"

Abby crossed her heart and nodded eagerly.

※÷※÷※

"It's just that…things haven't been going very well lately. Gibbs keeps giving me these looks, like I've done something wrong, made some massive error in judgment, and I don't get where it's coming from. I know I haven't been slacking."

"Oh, he's _always_ looking at you," Abby said off-handedly. "And not in a bad way."

"He is _not_ always…What're you talking about?" Tony didn't know if he should be pleased or unduly worried.

"I don't know. Like…" Abby scrunched up her face in thought. "Like he's trying to figure you out."

"There's nothing to figure out. He knows me," said Tony. Gibbs was the one person who _did_ know Tony, more than anyone except for Abby. It was more than that though; Gibbs understood him, and that was a huge thing as far as Tony was concerned. Gibbs saw behind his posturing, caught the nuances, he _got_ him. Nobody had ever been that close to him in his entire life.

"You _could_ ask him, you know."

"Oh yeah, right. I'd never get an answer."

"Maybe not, but you're good at reading between the lines, Tony. You're the one who told me it's what people _don't_ say that matters most of the time." Abby moved a bit, getting herself more comfortable, one arm draped across Tony's stomach. "I saw the way he acted when you got hurt chasing Minor, Tony. He wasn't happy about that. I was up in the bullpen when Ducky was examining you, and Gibbs snapped at me and wanted to know what was taking Ducky so long."

"He never gets annoyed with you," Tony said, wondering what that was about.

"Exactly," Abby replied. "He cares about you a lot, and I'm not talking about whether or not you're going to be able to work the next day kind of caring."

"No. C'mon, no. He was just pissed because I almost lost the suspect and ended up taking a dunking in the Potomac. You should have seen me, teeth chattering, turning blue and dripping all over the car, and then Gibbs offers me his sweatshirt. I couldn't even accept that graciously – all I could do is fondle it and then refuse to wear it. No wonder he kept looking at me like he I'd lost my marbles."

"Tony, he does not think you've lost…what do you mean you were _fondling_ it?" Abby's eyes were alight with interest.

Tony laughed, not very convincingly. "Did I say that? No…no, see, it wasn't like I could drag his favorite sweatshirt over my wet clothes, and besides, we were almost back at the Yard by then and–"

"Tony. You said _fondling_."

Tony groaned. "Okay, it was soft and I couldn't stop thinking where it had been–"

"Hugging Gibbs' warm, hunky body," Abby said with a grin.

Tony stared at Abby. Okay, interesting image that conjured up. But no. _No_. Slowly, he said, "Actually, I was thinking about that sweatshirt's history, how Gibbs must've worn it for years, probably all the way back when he was on active duty, and married, and I could just see Shannon, washing it for him and…" Tony tried to smile, but in the end he couldn't so he gave a slight shrug and said quietly, "It got me thinking how much I'm missing. You know, not being a meaningful part of someone's life, and I wondered if it's too late to turn my life around."

"Oh my God! Oh, Tony…Tony, you're…you're _sweet_ on Gibbs." Abby hugged him with compassion. "Why didn't you say something?"

Aghast, Tony said, "What? _Sweet_? No way! You make it sound like we're Danny and Sandy sharing a malted at the soda shop. No, there's _no_ sweet involved."

"And what's more, how is it I didn't know?" Abby asked. "I mean, I knew you liked him, like a _lot_, because it's perfectly obvious when anyone sees the two of you together and the way you seem to know what each other's thinking – unless you're totally blind – but I never thought you'd _go_ for him."

Tony spluttered, "I am _not_ going for Gibbs so get that thought right out of your mind. How do you even come up with…? Where do you…?" Abby was still smiling at him as if she knew better than he did, and Tony knew he had to put a stop to it right away. "Look, Abby, he is my boss, and…and, okay, maybe he's more than that. A friend and mentor," Tony was quick to say. "And he's Gibbs, but I'd never jeopardize what we've got now. Not for _anything_. And now I need to get some sleep and you have a big day tomorrow with the Scooby Gang."

Abby looked at him hard for a moment and seemed to accept that Tony did not want to be paired with Gibbs. She said with exaggerated patience, "Don't you see, Tony, that the reason you've been unable to commit to one person is not because of some failing on your part, but because all those people you've been out with have been all _wrong_ for you, like not keepers? Your subconscious makes you mess up every relationship with anyone who isn't the right someone because deep inside of you, in your heart, you're able to recognize that none of these people are that special someone you're waiting for. You're doomed to fail. You can't seal the deal, no matter how hard you try. Instinctive sexual desire triggered by appropriate criteria; Human Behavior 101."

Tony stared at her. "Wow, sometimes kids say the darndest things."

"So now all we have to do put you together with that one person that you're destined to be with, and the rest will come naturally. The good thing is, we already know who it is." Abby gave him a satisfied smile as if it was already taken care of.

Tony asked cautiously, "I don't have to beat my chest and compete with all the other males, do I?"

"No, because your special someone is in exactly the same boat, unable to commit until the pair of you come face to face and you both accept the inevitable. The trouble is, you've been in the habit of DiNozzo speed-dating for so long that you never stop long enough to really open your eyes," Abby said. "_Look_, Tony, and see what's right in front of you."

Speed dating? Not recently, though Tony wasn't about to tell her that. Disliking how shallow Abby made him sound, Tony replied, "Some of my relationships have lasted a few weeks." Before she could say anything, Tony added, "And I'm talking about real affairs, not undercover ones. And as far as finding this mythical 'one,' I wouldn't even know how to spot them. Besides, do you have any idea how slim the chances are of being at the right time and place, and meeting the one person you say is my intended? C'mon, you're a scientist, do the numbers."

"That doesn't mean I don't believe in karma," Abby said. "And you'll know."

Tony crossed his arms over his chest and said sullenly, "Well, I don't believe in destiny or karma or even true love."

"But you loved Wendy enough to want to get married, Tony. Doesn't that prove there's true love?"

"It proves that our love was one-sided," Tony said tiredly, not wanting to think about how Wendy had walked out on him the day after he'd accepted Gibbs' offer to work at NCIS. Okay, he should have discussed it with her beforehand, but the subsequent fight and his refusal to explain why he wouldn't be partnered up with Danny any more had pretty much signaled the end of their relationship. The bitterness had faded but it had never really gone away. His feelings for her had definitely faded though. "It's better not to invest of yourself so deeply. It hurts like hell when you get shot down, which is why I'll be happy if love doesn't even come into the equation."

"No, Tony! You cannot _settle_. I won't let you," Abby insisted.

Tony's headache was coming back so he said in a quiet yet firm tone, "Right now what I'll settle for is a few hours' sleep. I've had a rough couple of days."

"Oh, Tony, I'm sorry. At least you'll get a few days off at Christmas."

"Days off that I'm going to spend catching up on my sleep. You gonna be okay on the couch tonight?" Tony asked, hoping she wouldn't insist on sharing his bed. He needed to be alone.

"Sure, I already got a pillow and blankets but…" Abby twisted one pigtail and mused, "You ever think that maybe Gibbs' headslaps are a Neanderthal way of showing he's interested in you?"

Tony couldn't help but laugh. "You mean like when a little kid punches a girl in the arm to show how much he likes her?"

"You seem to enjoy Gibbs' slaps," she pointed out.

Okay, so maybe he did, more than he was willing to admit. "Just because I like Gibbs' attention doesn't mean I have a deep, meaningful relationship with the boss. And you punch me plenty, but that doesn't mean you're the one, _Neo_."

Abby smiled. "Since you're talking _The Matrix_: 'Being the one is just like being in love. No one needs to tell you you're in love, you just know it, through and through.'"

"Clever, using movie dialog against me," Tony said, wagging a finger at her.

"All's fair," Abby said with a grin as she headed out of the room. She stopped in the doorway and asked quietly, "Tony? Promise me one thing?"

Tony sighed. "Sure, what?"

"Promise me that when you meet someone, if it feels right, that you'll give them a chance. Just stop and ask yourself if this is a person you can live with for the rest of your life."

"Okay, I will," Tony agreed sleepily.

Abby said a soft, "Good night," and closed the door behind her.

As Tony lay in bed, tired but unable to sleep, it came to him that Abby had it all wrong. It wasn't who you could live _with_ for the rest of your life, but who you could not live _without_ – and that made all the difference in the world. And that made Tony consider, and wonder, and ultimately squash that little bit of hope that Abby had raised. She meant well but she was wrong, so very wrong about Gibbs.

※÷※÷※÷※÷※


	6. Chapter 6

A reminder that this was written for the NCIS Big Bang 2014 and there are other stories and art being published every day this week. See the NCIS Newsletter or go to .com to get the links. Or search for ncis big bang 2014.

**CHAPTER 6 - THE TRUTH**

_**The Truth is Out There [1.17]  
**Tony: What're we looking for?  
Gibbs: Answers. (he walks away)  
Tony (to Kate): You got plans tonight?  
Kate: Not really.  
Tony: Good. 'Cause the last time Gibbs was like this, I didn't go home for a week.  
Kate: The sad part? That would actually be an improvement over my social life._

Early the next morning, as she was about to leave, Abby made one last attempt to get Tony to join them. After she'd stated her case, Tony took hold of her shoulders and said, "Abby, you know I love you, and I appreciate that you want me to join you, but I need you to understand that I just don't like this time of year and I need to deal with it in my own way."

"Oh, Tony…"

"Being alone gives me time to reflect, okay? I don't have a lot of me-time and…"

"And you need it, especially now. I get it." Abby encompassed Tony in a huge hug that squeezed all the air out of his lungs.

"Abbs," he wheezed. "My ribs!"

"Gosh, sorry! You're sure you'll be okay alone?"

Tony nodded and started to shoo her out the door. "I'll be fine, Abby. They're predicting snow, so tell McRoadMap to drive carefully."

"You know, even though most people wouldn't see it, you're too much like Gibbs, finding solace in being solitary. I wish…" Abby looked thoughtfully at Tony. "I wish you two could find a way to come together without all the barricades you're always putting up. You _belong_ together." Abby wrapped her arms around Tony again, this time more gently, and whispered in his ear, "Bon sante, bene amis et famille."

And then she was gone, leaving Tony with a strange feeling, like something important was about to happen. He shrugged it off; there was snow in the air and the change in pressure affected his head. Two buffered aspirin with breakfast and a long, hot shower helped sort things out. Tony dressed in dark pants and a fine cashmere turtleneck in cranberry red – after all, it was Christmas Eve – and he set off for work.

※÷※÷※

"Morning, Boss."

Gibbs grunted.

"Looks like it's just the two of us," Tony said, trying again. He noticed that Gibbs was wearing a forest green polo shirt in what appeared to be a token attempt to be festive.

"Get to work. End of the year assessments to catch up on." Gibbs didn't even look up from his paperwork.

Okay, scrap the idea that Gibbs was wearing a seasonal color on purpose. At first it seemed odd not having the rest of the team around, but then Tony was reminded of when he'd just started working at NCIS. It had been him and Gibbs, a team of two, handling the major crimes. Gibbs had driven him hard, but he'd enjoyed it, had been so eager. Tony smiled and said, "You know, Boss, this is like the old days, the _really_ old days, the after-Stan and before-Viv days – well, after-Viv for a while, too – when it was just you and me together."

Gibbs raised his eyes and said dryly, "You know what every day after December 25th is going to be known as, DiNozzo, if you don't get some work done? It'll become known as the after-DiNozzo days, and when your teammates return I'm going to let McGee sit at your desk and Ziva can have all the crap you keep on it, like that Mickey Mouse stapler and the signed photo of that guy with the Ferrari."

That was so not fair. "It's Mighty Mouse," Tony said in a small voice.

Gibbs looked at him blankly. "The mouse drives a Ferrari?"

Tony opened his mouth to explain, but Gibbs had already turned his attention back to his work and Tony decided it wasn't prudent to disturb him. But then, when was Tony ever prudent? In the end he couldn't help himself so, without looking away from his computer, Tony said, "I was only going to mention that when it was just the two of us, Boss, when I was an NCIS probie and you were teaching me the ropes, it was the best time of my life."

Gibbs stared at Tony intently enough to make him drop his eyes and get busy entering data into an assessment report, and even then Tony could feel Gibbs' eye boring into him. Tony wasn't sure what to make of it, if he'd said something wrong, or if, perhaps, Gibbs had never thought that Tony had enjoyed his company, even when he was being barked at for making rookie mistakes. Eventually, when Tony braved a glance in Gibbs' direction, the silver-haired man was back at work.

※÷※÷※

"I'm heading home, Boss." Gibbs had already signed off on his paperwork and he'd even thanked Tony when he'd brought him a serving of carrot cake and a mug of some dubious-looking eggnog from the party that was going on in one of the conference rooms. The paper plate the cake had been on was empty, save for a few crumbs, and the eggnog sat congealing on the edge of Gibbs' desk. Tony disposed of it.

Gibbs removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He looked tired. Tony wondered if Gibbs' earlier invitation to come over for Christmas dinner was still on.

Gibbs saved him the need to ask for confirmation by saying casually, "Come over whenever you want tomorrow."

"I'll be there after noon then. Thank you," Tony said politely. After putting on his coat, Tony realized he didn't want to go back to his empty apartment alone and, without any real forethought, he asked, "Gibbs? I was wondering…" Gibbs chose that moment to look Tony in the eye Tony almost forgot what he was going to say. "Uh…I got some food in because I expected my father to come for the holidays but I sort of burned that bridge and…well, how'd you like to come over for dinner?"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah. It's not fancy or anything – some lasagna. I have some imported beer, or wine if you'd–"

"Sure."

"What?" It couldn't be that easy.

"An hour. That good?"

"Great! Yeah. Sure." Tony smiled. Wow. This was a first, a moment to remember. Gibbs was actually coming to _his_ home for dinner. Tony's mind took a sharp right-handed turn and he wondered whether or not he had enough beer and how maybe he should buy some Coors on the way home in case Gibbs didn't like his fancy micro-brew, and did he have time to make a side of bruschetta, but did he have any tomatoes left and…

"Is there something else, DiNozzo?" Gibbs looked slightly amused, which looked almost the same as Gibbs-being-impatient except that the little lines at the corners of Gibbs' eyes moved a fraction up instead of down when he was amused. Tony was one of the few people who could tell the difference between Gibbs' too-subtle facial expressions; it was akin to knowing a secret code or something.

Tony smiled right back. "Nope. See you." Better make a quick stop at the grocery store.

※÷※÷※

Life sometimes changes direction, and not always in the direction you imagine it might take. In Tony's case, it had veered quite a bit off course the day he'd met Gibbs, and every now and then it took off and sped around a few dangerous curves. Now he was now walking along a far different road than he'd ever envisioned treading. It was a good change, even if somewhat unexpected, but going it all alone was…well, it was a bit lonely. Not that Tony needed a companion, but he wanted, at the very least, to tell somebody about what was going on in his life. He'd almost thought that Abby was the one he'd end up spilling his guts to but something – or somebody – had caused him to hold back.

Okay, so it wasn't just _somebody, _it was _Gibbs_ that Tony felt a strong need to confide in. Not to lay a burden upon him, nor to seek advice, but to be frank with him. And if they were true friends – which Tony believed they were even if they both kept their inner thoughts private much of the time – then keeping this to himself was tantamount to telling a lie. And Tony definitely did not want to lie to Gibbs.

Of course he didn't _have_ to say anything out loud. Things could continue as they were. But Tony had been finding it harder, as time passed, to keep this to himself. Besides, it wouldn't be long before Gibbs caught on, if he hadn't already. After all, Gibbs had that way of knowing instinctively if something was going on, and if..._when_ it came out later, Gibbs was sure to be pissed that Tony had not come to him, whether as a sounding board, a colleague, or as a friend.

It was a terrible risk, opening up to Gibbs – to anyone, really – but it was a risk Tony felt compelled to take. Tonight would be an opportune time to spill the beans to Gibbs. They would be alone, no pressure from the outside, no interruptions.

And all he had to do was open his mouth and say the words.

※÷※÷※

It wasn't until Tony had finished running around getting the meal ready that he started to panic.

_Oh shit_. _Shitshitshit._

Sweating and breathing rapidly were the first symptoms of what was likely to escalate into a full-fledged panic attack. He couldn't even _think_ the words, so how was he going to say them aloud to Gibbs?

_'Oh God, oh God, I can't, I can't…'_

Tony sat on the closed toilet with his face buried in a towel while he tried to control his breathing. Eventually his anxiety receded enough so he thought he'd be able to function. After splashing his face with cool water, Tony braced his hands on the counter's edge and said to his reflection, "Okay, you can do this DiNozzo. C'mon, get your act together, you big wuss." His eyes stared back at him, dark and apprehensive.

Tony smoothed his hair back even though it was perfect and pulled the collar of his turtleneck up a little more to cover the plum-colored bruise on his neck. He could do this. He _could_. Even if the evening ended badly, at least he could say he'd had the guts to speak the truth. That was, if he remembered how to speak once he was facing Gibbs.

The doorbell rang and immediately the panic returned. "Ohmygod, I can't do this! I can't!"

※÷※÷※

Tony opened his front door, a broad and welcoming smile on his face. "Hey Gibbs, great you could come! Merry Christmas! Come on in. Let me take your coat."

It looked like Gibbs had taken the time to go home and change. He looked really good in a red polo and jeans that were fitted more than usual. But then Gibbs always looked good – except for when he'd come back from Mexico still in his beach bum phase and then he'd looked terrible. Long-haired and scruffy was definitely not a good look on him.

Now, as he took Gibbs' coat, Tony noticed that he even smelled good. It wasn't sawdust, either, but the faint scent of aftershave, clean and woodsy.

Gibbs sniffed. "Smells good."

For a second, Tony thought that Gibbs had read his mind, and then he realized Gibbs was referring to the food. "_Oh_, you mean the lasagna. Old family recipe, passed down to each new generation. My great-grandmother, Albertina DiNozzo spent hours…" Deciding that this was not the time to relate a lengthy version of DiNozzo family history, Tony asked, "You want a tour?"

"I think I can find my way around, but sure." Although Gibbs had been at Tony's condo with Abby, just the night before, he looked around inquisitively as if this was his first visit. Slowly ambling around Tony's living room, Gibbs inspected the Christmas cards on the mantel (most of them were from Tony's frat brothers and the rest from people at work) before admiring the fireplace itself. Tony explained it was from 1910, original to the building.

"Don't build them like they used to," Gibbs said appreciatively as he ran his hand along the woodwork. He looked around and asked, "No Christmas tree?"

"I don't usually put one up. A few strings of those little lights, some homemade eggnog, a classic movie – that's enough for me. Except I didn't get around to the lights this year. Or the eggnog. I don't know, we always seem to have a heavy workload around the holidays. Why do you think there are so many major crimes just before Christmas? We know that DWIs and breaking-and-entering cases rise around the holidays, and of course there's an uptick in petty crimes due to more hours of darkness, which means–"

Gibbs stopped in his tracks and directed a pointed look at Tony.

"Sorry, Boss. Guess I'm a little anxious." Tony couldn't help being on edge but at least he wasn't having another panic attack. It was important to Tony that Gibbs felt welcome in his home and enjoyed having dinner with him. He hoped that this was going to set a precedent and that Gibbs would come over on a regular basis. Only, Tony thought glumly, when Gibbs heard what Tony had to say to him, he might never come back.

"No need," Gibbs replied mildly.

Tony gave a small laugh and asked, "Guess I was doing a Ducky, running off at the mouth."

"Like the business end of a faucet," Gibbs agreed, but his smile took the sting out of his words.

Gibbs stopped to admire Kate the goldfish. Tony told him how he'd taken her in after McGee had claimed to be allergic to fish. "She's the first pet I've ever had. I know she's only a fish but it's still sorta nice to have her here, to talk to when I come in after a hard day at the office. Whenever I'm away, the lady across the hall comes in to feed her."

Gibbs nodded as if he understood and moved on to the piano. He was fascinated with it, running his hands over the dark mahogany case. He checked under the lid like it was an automobile, which amused Tony. Gibbs merely glanced at the many DVDs sitting neatly in the built-in bookcases but he took his time perusing the books, with Tony giving a running commentary all the while. Gibbs pulled out a WW1-era book on ballistics and turned the yellowing pages with care. When he was finished looking it over, he replaced it on the shelf where he'd found it and continued on.

At the tail end of his inspection, Gibbs halted in front of a framed black and white photograph hanging in the hallway near the kitchen. "This is yours," he said, sounding slightly surprised.

"Yes, it is." Tony steeled himself for what was likely to be a candid assessment of his work.

Gibbs glanced at Tony and went back to studying the photograph. It was a small-town street, taken at night. Dense with shadows, the only light source was a faraway streetlamp. At first the town seemed deserted, even lonely. If you looked closely though, you could make out the glazed reflection of a man in a storefront window. Gibbs was paying it close attention; he'd even pulled out his reading glasses. "Is that you?"

Tony rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. It was an experiment for a college class: night shots. It was the first time I used a self-timer and a tripod, and I had no clue if it was even going to come out. Of course we used film in those days, developed our own black-and-whites. So there I am, or there's my reflection."

Gibbs made a soft hmmm sound. "Sorta arty." He paused. "But I like it. Every now and then you surprise me, DiNozzo," he said with a crooked smile.

"Thanks, I think," Tony said, more than pleased at Gibbs' comment. Gibbs just looked at him as if he was waiting for something, so Tony said, "Let's eat."

They ate dinner at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, seated next to each other on a pair of very expensive, comfortable chairs. Tony realized that nobody had ever sat on them before. Usually he ate cereal standing up, and dinner – when he was home – was eaten while watching TV in the living room. He even had a _Magnum_ TV-tray, the kind with folding legs. "You're my real first guest," Tony admitted. "The other night, when you and Abby dragged me home and tucked me in doesn't count."

Gibbs seemed to mean it when he said, "Guess I should be honored then."

"I never wanted to invite anyone over before," Tony admitted.

"Women like to sleep in their own beds," said Gibbs, nodding in understanding.

"Yeah, but I meant you're the first _friend _I've had over," Tony said, wanting to be clear.

Gibbs looked at him curiously. "Good to know," was all he said.

Tony served lasagna and a colorful salad with grilled double-tomato bruschetta on the side. He poured the wine, although after the previous night's excesses he planned to limit his intake to a single glass.

Gibbs certainly seemed to enjoy the meal; he even sampled the salad. "Another one."

"Another what?" Tony had to remind himself not to call Gibbs 'Boss' when they were off-duty.

"Another surprise. You're full of them," Gibbs said, wiping his mouth on a large dinner napkin. "Good."

So, the way to Gibbs' heart was through his stomach. Tony smiled and replied, "My mother told me that everyone should be able to create two good dishes for company. I've been making lasagna since I was a kid. Mom let me help her. I've been told my Italian meatballs are really good and Tim likes my pork chops in buttermilk gravy. Cooking come in handy. I'm pretty sure it's the reason I got voted into Alpha Chi Delta so fast. My frat brothers liked a meal that would stick to their ribs before going out drinking."

Gibbs gestured at the mostly empty plates in front of them. "When d'you find the time?"

"I cook at night when I can't sleep." Tony gave a slight shrug. "It sort of relaxes me. I just have to make sure I get all the ingredients together in advance."

"You gotta be prepared," Gibbs agreed. "They say cooking's a science." They smiled at each other. After all, they both knew that Gibbs would order take-out, or chow down on a can of cold baked beans rather than cook a meal. Except for grilling steaks, Tony had never seen him make any kind of meal in all the time he'd known him.

"Exactly. There's nothing worse than running out of olive oil at 2 a.m. Or lube, for that matter. That'll kill a party, for sure." Gibbs was watching him closely, trying to gauge if he was being serious or not, but Tony managed to keep a straight face. He busied himself putting their plates in the sink and then said, "Let's go in the living room," grabbing the bottle of wine and their glasses. Okay, so maybe he'd break the one-glass rule. It was Christmas Eve, after all.

They sat on his comfortable leather couch, about an arm's length from each other and talked about sports and the conflicts overseas for a while. Tony related a bit of amusing office gossip and Gibbs opened up enough to share some pointers about fishing. Not that Tony liked fishing, but he did like listening to Gibbs talk, and Gibbs had sure been talking more than…well, more than he'd ever talked before.

Tony got distracted a few times when he got caught up in Gibbs direct gaze, and then he'd have to look away and ask himself what the hell he thought he was doing. But as soon as he met Gibbs' eyes Tony was drawn right back to their depths, and he'd lose the thread of the conversation. Falling back on humor, Tony said something that amused Gibbs. The corner of his mouth twitched right before it morphed into a full-fledged smile, the kind that lit up his face and made his eyes shine that incredible shade of blue – and that's when Tony knew he was just like one of Gibbs' fish, greedily taking the bait and getting caught on a sharp, deadly hook. All Gibbs was going to have to do was reel him in; Tony would only put up a token struggle.

He might deny to Abby that he had a thing for Gibbs, and he might even tell himself that it was just a physical reaction to the man's commanding presence – which had always been a turn-on for Tony – but deep down, he knew there was more to…whatever this was…than a superficial attraction.

Telling himself to stop ogling his boss, Tony took a sip of wine and tried to act as if he didn't feel like he was burning up from the inside out. "Do you wish you'd stayed retired, Boss?"

"You mean Mexico? Nah. Even when I still had holes in my memory, I knew I had something important to come back to." Gibbs looked straight into Tony's eyes as if he was emphasizing his point, and for a long moment Tony found it impossible to breathe. All he could think was, there was no way any good would come of this situation if Gibbs kept up this….this flirting or whatever it was.

"I'm glad you came back," Tony said, leaning back, determined to appear undisturbed by Gibbs' attention. "Of course I would have preferred if I hadn't been demoted without any notice."

"It was handled badly," Gibbs admitted. "_I_ handled it badly."

Wow, Gibbs was taking responsibility for his actions, after all this time. "You weren't exactly yourself," Tony said, allowing him some slack. He hadn't meant the conversation to get so serious and he was kicking himself for saying the wrong thing.

Gibbs seemed irritated, though apparently not with Tony. "I had no right to usurp your position, not after running out on everyone…on _you_ like that."

"At least I managed not to screw up the team's standings while we were waiting for you to come back, Boss. Everyone knew I was just a stand-in. It's okay–"

Gibbs cut him off angrily. "No, it's not okay. And I didn't come back because of the job. There was more at stake than the damn job, DiNozzo. I…I should have said something to you a long time ago."

Seeing that Gibbs was offering an apology, Tony said, "Well, that's good to know. Better late than never, right?"

"I've missed a lot of chances over the years. I'm trying…I want to make things right," Gibbs said in a subdued voice, as if he was thinking of something else.

"You're not the only one," Tony said, just as softly. It wasn't Tony's imagination that Gibbs' gaze dropped to his mouth before sliding back up to his eyes, and the warm look Gibbs gave him, with a generous heap of sexy on the side, sent Tony's heart rate up a notch. Hell, it was beating like a damned drum and Tony could feel his dick getting interested, which was really not a good thing because any minute now Gibbs would notice the tent forming in his trousers.

When Gibbs reached for his glass and drank some wine, he looked sideways at Tony as he swallowed, and then he licked his bottom lip, which got Tony all hot and bothered and wondering why he'd thought that inviting Gibbs to dinner was a good idea. Gibbs had to be toying with him, he _had_ to be. Well, if that's what he was trying to accomplish, it was sure working.

Tony lurched to his feet and mumbled, "I have to…the plates…uh, the dishwasher," and made a beeline for the kitchen. While he dealt with the dishes, Tony thought un-sexy thoughts like handling bodies in autopsy and crawling around in a grossed-out sewer, and willed his erection to go away. It wasn't working. This had never ever happened before, getting a boner while he was in Gibbs' presence. He'd always been able to control his reactions to his boss, had kept it separate, suppressed.

Tony looked down at his groin and whined, "C'mon, man, give me a break, just this once. Tell you what, if you act nice and make yourself scarce, I'll give you a run around the block tonight that you'll never forget. Deal?" Luckily his erection began to subside a bit and Tony gave a big sigh of relief.

He opened the fridge to pull out the dessert, calling out, "Dessert? Key lime pie?" Gibbs didn't respond so Tony turned and damned if Gibbs wasn't standing in the doorway with a smirk on his face. "Uh, just talking to myself," Tony said, feeling his cheeks turning red.

"Uh-huh. Is that for me?"

"For you?" Tony asked, his voice cracking.

Gibbs nodded at the pie in Tony's hands. "The pie, DiNozzo."

"Oh, of course. One big slice of pie coming up."

They took their dessert, along with a cup of freshly made coffee for Gibbs, into the living room. Once again they sat on the couch, although this time it seemed as though Gibbs positioned himself a little closer to Tony than before. Now and then Gibbs' arm or leg would brush against Tony's in a way that he found very distracting.

They finished their pie and coffee yet Gibbs didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave. Tony found him to be good company and he was smiling a lot, which was unusual – but Tony wasn't complaining. He used to freak out when Gibbs was unnaturally nice, but he'd since figured out that it was Gibbs's way of showing concern for his agents during very bad times. It rarely happened, and just as often Gibbs would be a bear when the stress mounted. Tony could deal with it either way. Still, socially, a nice Gibbs was a good thing. The man was showing another side of himself and Tony rather liked seeing it. He wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of Gibbs' romantic charm but quickly pushed that thought away.

Some things were not meant to be, and even if it were possible, if _somehow_ Gibbs felt that way – which he didn't – Tony didn't want to get involved with him. He _wouldn't_. Things were fine as they were. Everyone knew their place in the big scheme of things, and Tony was certain of his, and it did not involve Gibbs as anything but a colleague, mentor and friend. Wives and girlfriends might come and go, but him and Gibbs? They were a constant, and Tony wouldn't trade anything in the whole damned world for what they had now.

※÷※÷※

It was getting late by the time they turned off the TV. Gibbs had mentioned there was college football being broadcast from Hawaii; it turned out to be a pretty good game. Who'd have thought they'd spend Christmas Eve together, cheering Tulsa's Golden Hurricane as they beat the crap out of the home team?

Gibbs showed no sign he was leaving anytime soon. He'd poured himself another cup of coffee and now sat with a mug in one hand, his other arm draped over the back of the couch. He looked right at home.

With three glasses of wine inside him, Tony decided that this was as good a time as any to have 'the talk' with Gibbs. It was nerve-wracking. After all, he was about to lay it all out before Gibbs, about to utter the words he'd never said aloud, not even to himself. Gibbs was a fair man and would most likely be completely supportive, but once he'd heard what Tony had to say, their relationship was going to change. That was inevitable. If, by some chance, it turned out to be a big deal to Gibbs, if he was turned off in any way, then Tony would have just deal with it. Either way, the time had come.

Tony took a second to ready himself, straightened his back and said, a little more loudly than intended, "Gibbs? I have something I want to…something I _need_ to say."

Gibbs gave Tony his full attention. "I'm not going anywhere."

Unfortunately, having Gibbs' direct gaze fixed on him expectantly, Tony's mouth went dry. He tried to swallow and almost choked. "Um…good game, huh?"

Gibbs gave a little laugh. "Don't tell me you're gonna let it go to waste, DiNozzo."

"Waste?" Tony's brain was totally spaced out and, for the life of him, he couldn't get it back on track.

Gibbs made a gesture with his hand, encompassing Tony's apartment. "All this. The whole set-up: the dinner, the drinks," he said matter-of-factly. "All this foreplay."

"Foreplay? No it is _not_! What? No. This was a 'Do you want to come over for dinner on Christmas Eve?' invitation to my boss, my colleague, my…" Tony wanted to say more but the words stuck in his throat.

Gibbs leaned a little forward. "How about you just tell me what this is all about. I'm listening."

Tony knew he had better hurry up and get his ass in gear before Gibbs' offer to hear him out was rescinded, only he found himself mesmerized by Gibbs' eyes. Words simply failed him. Silence stretched between them until Tony feared he was about to lose the chance to share an important point in his life with a man he truly respected. He might not get another.

"It's okay," Gibbs said encouragingly, and Tony swallowed his insecurity and found the courage to speak.

"You're a smart guy, Gibbs," Tony said with a faint smile. "You see things that others don't, put two and two together. It's second nature to you. I say this because, knowing you, you probably already know what I'm gonna tell you…what I _need_ to say out loud." Tony closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them, he found Gibbs was still studying him, though his expression had softened.

Gibbs raised his chin slightly, indicating Tony should go ahead. "Then tell me."

When Tony spoke, it was no more than a whisper at first, but in the quiet the apartment his voice sounded loud. "I've been interested in girls since the first grade, when Marcy McManus punched me for tugging at her skirt. That led to a long parade of girls and then…women. A _lot_ of women," he said, not too proud of his past.

Gibbs gave the barest of nods, never taking his eyes off Tony.

A voice inside Tony's head said, _'This is it.'_ This was where he had to turn the corner, take advantage of the opening that Gibbs was offering him, and speak up. He reminded himself that he trusted Gibbs and that made it easier. After clearing his throat, Tony said in a stronger voice, "Somewhere along the way I expanded my horizons. It was curiosity, experimentation, whatever you want to call it, but there came a point when I realized that this wasn't a passing thing. Not that I ever did much of anything until I met Abby. She took me to some pretty wild clubs where just about anything goes. You know what I mean."

Once again Gibbs nodded although, from his expression, it looked like he was a bit puzzled as to where Tony was going with this. Still, he knew about Abby and the kind of clubs she frequented, and that Tony often accompanied her.

"I haven't figured it all out yet, but I've pretty much jumped the fence I was straddling for a while there and it's been a long time since Marcy and…my…uh…my tastes have changed. See, I'm…" Tony squared his shoulders and announced, in a voice so calm and so _confident_, it surprised him, "I want to tell you I'm gay."

After a couple of slow blinks, Gibbs said, "You're gay." There was no telling what Gibbs was thinking at that moment; he seemed to be simply repeating Tony's words back to him. Then Gibbs carefully put his coffee mug aside and took a long hard look at Tony.

Gibbs' expression might be unreadable but Tony could tell that his boss's brain was working away, all the little cogs and wheels kicking into gear as they processed the information Tony had just throw at him. It was probably the most stressful fifteen seconds of Tony's entire life, waiting to hear the verdict. _Will the defendant please rise…_

Gibbs looked Tony over as if he was reassessing his opinion of him and then gave a soft snort. "Huh. Took you long enough, DiNozzo."

While Tony sat there thinking, _'He's known all along,'_ and then, alternately, _'No, he's covering up because I caught him off guard,_' Gibbs rose to his feet.

"Good dinner. See you at my place tomorrow, DiNozzo. Anytime is good."

Gibbs had picked up his coat and was halfway out the door before Tony came out of his daze and rose to his feet. "Um, yeah…Merry Christmas, Gibbs," Tony called after him.

※÷※÷※÷※÷※


	7. Chapter 7

**Note: **Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to comment and PM me. It means a lot to me especially as it was difficult to bring this story together - although my jumble of words seems to have sorted themselves out.

I'd like to take a moment to answer a question from an anonymous fan who wants to know: why, if I've already written the entire story, I don't post all 10 chapters at once?

Well, the truth is that I am posting this one chapter per day because I'm a 'comment whore.' Yep, that's me. I love hearing from people, getting their reactions to each chapter, and replying to them. All the interaction gives me pleasure. Besides, it's a serial, intended to be posted slowly so readers can enjoy the little cliff-hangars.

(Full disclosure: As part of the Big Bang requirements, we have to post the entire fic at once and I did so at AO3, so if you want to read the end, you can find it there.)

Enjoy! ~ Rose Malmaison

\- • - • -

**CHAPTER 7 - BEST LAID PLANS**

_**Baltimore [8.22]  
**Danny: See, that's why you can dress like that. 'Cause you're good-looking, but one of these days, the looks are going to run out.  
Tony: I plan to be safely married by then.  
Danny: Well if not, you might want to consider a new wardrobe. Seriously. Yeah, with the right clothes, you'd be unstoppable._

Tony almost didn't make it to Gibbs' place on Christmas Day.

He'd had a bad night, tossing and turning, thinking about Gibbs' words: _'Took you long enough, DiNozzo.'_

Tony couldn't decide if Gibbs' response meant that he'd known all along, that he'd been waiting for some time for Tony to say it aloud, to come out to him. That made Tony wonder who else had assumed he was gay, or more likely bisexual because of his blatant appreciation of women and more subtle interest in men. Look at Abby, who had pushed him to go after Gibbs when neither of them had had an inkling that Gibbs was anything but straight. What it possible he'd never fooled anyone?

But what if Gibbs hadn't had a clue and Gibbs' offhanded comment had been his way of covering up being put on the spot? Was Gibbs uneasy because he hadn't seen it coming? Or worse, uncomfortable because Tony was gay? Except Gibbs was an astute man and no matter how well Tony had hidden his sexual orientation, surely Gibbs would have had some sense that he wasn't half as straight as he made himself out to be. Or was Tony expecting too much of the man?

In the end, Tony worried himself to sleep and had a hard time waking up when his alarm went off. After grabbing a quick breakfast, an almost black cup of coffee, and saying "Merry Christmas" to Kate, Tony set off for his annual run in Constitution Gardens. Afterwards, he kept his appointment for a sauna and massage, but after hurrying home under grey skies, he promptly fell asleep on the couch.

Tony woke up around one in the afternoon to find that it had started snowing. A couple of inches of heavy wet flakes had already accumulated and the weather report on TV said they were expecting several more inches that day. "Shoot. Maybe I'll stay at home. What d'ya think, Kate?" Kate swam around with her mouth open, waiting for her fish flakes, so Tony obliged with a sigh.

"You think I should face the music? I'm not scared of Gibbs, it's just that…it's like being a submarine, moving ahead blindly, sending out pings in the hope that you don't smash head-first into an underwater rock face. Did we ever watch _The Hunt for Red October_ together? Good movie. Sean Connery is a Russian submarine captain called Ramius. _'And the sea will grant each man new hope, as sleep brings dreams of home.'_ You would have liked it, Kate, all those underwater shots."

Tony considered opening a bottle of wine and settling back to enjoy _White Christmas_ in front of his gas fire while eating his pre-ordered lobster dinner from _Fahrenheit_. He knew the chef at the fine restaurant and the meal had just been delivered to his door and it smelled delicious. But staying at home would be the coward's way out because he had to face Gibbs sometime, and he wasn't likely to get another opportunity to be alone with him for a while.

By now, Gibbs would have had time to regroup, although Tony had a feeling an awkward conversation was likely to take place. Not that Tony regretted outing himself, because he had been ready even if it had been difficult. Now the question was: was Gibbs ready? And now that Gibbs had had time to think about what Tony had said, would he a) have questions or would he b) avoid any discussion and act as if Tony had never opened his mouth in the first place? Right now Tony was betting on b).

After a hot shower and a shave, and dressed in gray pants and a charcoal-gray ribbed turtleneck sweater, Tony felt ready to face just about anything. First, he placed a call to Abby to wish her a Merry Christmas and to see how things were going at Breena's aunt's home. She was full of the joys of the season and Tony could hear people laughing in the background. He listened to Abby's enthusiastic description of all the fun they'd been having, how they'd had enough snow to make snowmen and snow angels, and were currently opening presents as they ate hot buttered popcorn. It sounded so nice and cozy that Tony almost wished he'd joined his friends.

Abby said, "We all wish you were here, Tony. Promise you'll come next time we ask you…please?"

Tony hated making promises he might not be able to keep. "Maybe next year, okay? Look, I have to run. I'm on my way out."

"Oooh, are you going to…you-know-who's house?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "If you mean Gibbs', then yes I am, for dinner, and I'm late."

"And afterwards, maybe there'll be some snuggling in front of a toasty fire?"

"I seriously doubt that, Abby. Talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

After Tony had hung up the phone, he realized he hadn't told Abby how he'd outed himself to Gibbs the night before. Even though he and Abby were the best of friends and had seen each other through some tough times, Tony had never really considered telling her first. It was Gibbs, had always been Gibbs. Abby was sure to give him a hard time (_'What do you mean you didn't tell me first?'_) but he'd take the time to have a conversation with her when she returned. She'd be fine. Right now all Tony could think of was Gibbs, and until it was clear where Gibbs stood, this was going to remain a private matter.

Tony wrapped up warmly, said goodbye to Kate the fish, shut the door on his undecorated apartment and drove through the snowy streets to Gibbs' house. The carrier bag containing his lobster dinner was secured with a seatbelt on the front seat. As he drove, Tony thought about phoning his father, but decided that he didn't want to interrupt whatever his dad was doing. Maybe tomorrow. _Coward_, he thought.

Gibbs' front door was unlocked, as always, but Tony knocked before going in. "Merry Christmas," he called out. The house was warm and smelled of cooking and pine. Pine was Tony's favorite aroma, especially when it was reduced to sawdust. What could he say? The aroma of freshly milled wood reminded him of half-built boats, strong hands and one-sided conversations.

The source of the pine became obvious when Tony stepped into the living room. There, next to the roaring fire, was a perfectly shaped Christmas tree, a Douglas fir decked out with lights and ornaments. "Wow. Hey, you did this all by yourself?" Tony called. A closer look at the tree revealed that the decorations were from another era. "Are these ornaments Gibbs-family heirlooms?"

Gibbs emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. "Dad brought them when he came for Christmas a couple of years ago. Left them here." He didn't sound impressed but he smiled when Tony touched a frosted glass rocket ship with his fingertip and made the tree branch bob gently. "Merry Christmas, DiNozzo."

This was a good sign, Gibbs talking to him, no sign of having any issue with Tony's recent disclosure. Tony replied, "Same to you. This rocket has to be yours from when you were a kid. I'll bet you read _Tom Swift_ – am I right?" Some of the ornaments were homemade, like a small WW2 airplane made out of balsa wood and paper, and Tony could see Gibbs' hand in them, or maybe Jackson Gibbs had made it. Tony grinned. "This is so cool, all twinkly lights and tinsel, and frosted cookies, and a 'Santa coming down the chimney and kids singing carols' kind of Christmas. I don't remember you ever having a tree."

"Got out of the habit," Gibbs said, before retreating to the kitchen.

Tony watched Gibbs' retreating back. "Well, it certainly sets a holiday mood," he said enthusiastically. There were a few gifts under the tree, still wrapped in brightly colored paper. Tony surmised they were mostly from Gibbs' father and a peek at the gift tags proved him correct. The one wrapped in black paper was from Abby. Now Tony felt left out; he wished he'd ignored Gibbs' directive not to bring any gifts. At least he had lobster to share. "You need to open your gifts," Tony called out.

There was a moment of silence before Gibbs replied, "Later."

"Aren't you curious?"

"No, but apparently you are," Gibbs shot back.

"It's my job to be curious," Tony said, picking up one of Gibbs' gifts and shaking it: a sweater, he deduced. The contents of the other gifts were harder to guess (plaid slippers? hat with earflaps? silk long johns?) so Tony put them back where he found them. He was about to join Gibbs when he noticed a couple of sets of old-fashioned snowshoes leaning against the built-in bookcase, half hidden behind the tree. Tony pulled one out and inspected it. Its wood frame was bent in a large oval shape that was crisscrossed with taut lacing. "Hey Gibbs, what's with these snowshoes? You going to the North Pole?"

Gibbs didn't respond so Tony retrieved the carrier bag of food he'd brought along and stepped into the kitchen. Gibbs was bent over putting potatoes in the oven and Tony took a moment to admire the view because Gibbs sure had a nice ass, one that he usually covered up with a sports coat.

Gibbs shut the oven and quickly did an about-face. "That food need heating?"

Tony plastered an innocent smile on his face, pretending he hadn't been staring at Gibbs' rear end. He held up the carrier bag. "Here's some lobster. I'd already ordered it and I can't let it go to waste. We can put it on top of the steaks to make Lobster Colorado." Gibbs raised an eyebrow so Tony said, "Or not."

Gibbs pulled out the foil-wrapped lobster dinner and slid it into the stove where it would keep warm.

"So what's with the snowshoes?"

Gibbs said, "I saw them in the attic when I went up for the stuff for the tree. Thought we might give 'em a whirl. Handcrafted out of hickory and rawhide. They're called bear paws, 'cause of the shape." After checking the state of the weather through the kitchen window, Gibbs said, "The meal won't be ready for a bit. Feel like working up an appetite?"

The snow was tapering off from the looks of it but there had to be about five inches on the ground. Even if it was likely to melt by tomorrow, the accumulation was enough to bring the city to a standstill. Right now it looked really pretty. However, looking at snow and fooling around in it were two different things. Knowing Gibbs, he'd have a slalom course all set out and plan on something extremely competitive. "Uh, sure, I'm game," Tony agreed, trying to appear eager.

"You ever snowshoe before, DiNozzo?" Gibbs took one of the snowshoes from Tony and checked out the bindings.

"No, but I get the feeling _you're_ really good at it."

Gibbs smirked and Tony knew he was in for a hard time.

※÷※÷※

Tony may never have snow-shoed before, but he'd seen modern showshoes in sports stores and Gibbs' antique ones looked nothing like them. These were a lot bigger, made from natural materials instead of aluminum and rubber and, he'd guess, were considerably heavier. "We'll have to keep our nose to the wind and our eyes along the skyline," Tony said. When Gibbs looked at him blankly Tony rolled his eyes and said, "You've never seen _Jeremiah Johnson_? Robert Redford? Mountain man against the indians? Lots of snow?"

Gibbs shook his head a little and even though his expression didn't change, Tony could tell he was amused.

Tony sighed. "Okay, we'll have to put it on the list." He noticed that Gibbs didn't ask 'what list?'

Once they were all bundled up against the elements and standing knee-deep in a snowdrift in the front yard, Gibbs handed Tony a pair of ski poles. "To help you balance, _Jeremiah_," he said with a slight smirk.

Gibbs showed Tony how to wind the heavy cloth bindings around his boot and ankle to secure his foot to the snowshoe. Tony tied down his other foot. Okay, that wasn't hard.

Next up, Gibbs gave Tony some basic instructions on how to walk. "Like a duck, DiNozzo. And keep those front tips up."

So Tony walked like a duck, his stance wider than if he were walking normally. He had a feeling his thighs were going to ache like crazy tomorrow morning.

The air was fresh with big snowflakes gently falling. It wasn't long before Tony was warm from the exertion. The snowplow hadn't been along yet and the traffic was non-existent on Gibbs' street, so they walked down the middle of the street, past houses decked out in holiday lights and decorations, until Tony was comfortable with this new way of walking. Or waddling. Of course Gibbs wasn't satisfied with snowshoeing anywhere easy, so he led Tony across a neighbor's yard and onto a strip of rough land that ran behind the houses, used mostly for walking dogs in good weather.

When the light snowfall worked its way into a frenzied flurry and the houses could no longer be seen, it was if they were truly out in the wilds. Even the sound of snowplows was muffled and distant. The snow was deeper and walking was more difficult, and but Tony kept up with Gibbs, who was striding along as if he was ambling along a city sidewalk. "This is actually sorta fun, Gibbs," Tony said.

"Yeah?" Gibbs was grinning at him. "Just stride out with flat feet. Don't point your toe–"

Tony was so busy watching Gibbs (and admiring his long-legged stride) that he didn't pay attention to what he was doing. He leaned too far forward, the tip of one snowshoe dipped into the snow, and next thing he went flying and landed face down in the freezing cold snow. "Ooomph!" It took Tony a couple of seconds to recover. He rolled over, gasping and blinking the snow out of his eyes, and found that Gibbs was laughing at him. And not just smiling, either. No, this was hands on his hips, bent over laughing as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen, kind of laughing.

Shaking his head, Gibbs caught his breath and said, "Oh, man, that was a probie face-plant."

Tony joined in the laughter, because it really was funny, and besides, he was delighted to see Gibbs so happy. "Yeah, it was definitely a classic slapstick move. Next, you'll be encouraging me to lick a metal flagpole," he said good-humoredly while reaching out to take the hand that Gibbs extended to him.

For some reason, Gibbs wasn't wearing any gloves, and one of Tony's cashmere-lined, fine calfskin gloves had slipped off when he fell and was lying somewhere underneath him in the snow. When Tony saw the unchecked happiness in Gibbs' eyes and caught the whiff of pine as he bent over to help him up, he felt a thrill zip along his spine. Gibbs' warm, rough hand grasped Tony's and it was as if a jolt of electricity ran between them. They froze in place, their hands linked together, with Tony propped up on one elbow in the snow and Gibbs leaning over him.

God, the man was handsome with his bright blue eyes and cheeks made pink by the cold air, and the look in Gibbs' eyes made Tony's heart speed up. He could see from Gibbs' expression that he was feeling something, too.

Maybe it was the shared experience that made them so receptive to each other, but for a magical moment they were not DiNozzo and Gibbs but were simply two men who were aroused by the touch and scent of each other – and Tony was definitely aroused. It was obvious that whatever was going on was affecting Gibbs, too, and Tony knew they couldn't ignore it, this attraction to each other. _He_ couldn't ignore it, anyway. It was as though someone had opened a valve and all these emotions started pouring through it at a faster rate than he could handle.

And Gibbs was looking at him in a way that couldn't be mistaken for anything but…actually, Tony wasn't sure if it was attraction or desire or nothing more than concern – because it was entirely possible he was misreading the expression in Gibbs' eyes.

With the cold seeping through his clothing and his ass getting wet from the snow, Tony broke the spell. "I'm freezing down here," he said, his voice rough. He coughed to clear his throat but the cold air caused him to cough a couple more times, dry coughs that sounded terrible, even to Tony's ears.

Gibbs grabbed Tony's forearm and quickly hauled him to his feet. Tony was still coughing when Gibbs steadied him with an arm around his shoulder. As soon as he was on his feet, Tony tapped a fist to his chest and managed to suppress the coughs, but Gibbs still seemed worried.

"Better get you home."

Tony waved him off and bent to pick up his glove from the snow. "It's nothing."

"DiNozzo! Don't give me that."

Tony assured him, "I'm okay. It's the cold air. You know, one cough leads to another and every time you try to talk–"

"Then maybe you'd better stop talking. I'll check your bindings didn't loosen before we head back," Gibbs said curtly. He dropped on one knee to inspect Tony's snowshoes and Tony had the chance to admire Gibbs' silver hair from above. He was about to reach out to stroke it when Gibbs got to his feet.

"You're good," Gibbs said abruptly, not meeting Tony's eyes again. "Let's go and try to stay on your feet this time."

It wasn't far as they'd barely gone around the block, but by the time Tony stumbled up the walkway to Gibbs' front door and removed the cumbersome snowshoes, he was ready to collapse. They left the snowshoes and their boots on the porch, brushing the snow off their clothing before entering the house.

"Just give me the couch and a hot drink," said Tony, sinking onto the couch with a big sigh.

Gibbs immediately went to the kitchen to check on the potatoes and when he emerged he was carrying two bottles of beers. He barely looked at Tony when he handed him his beer, and Tony had a feeling that Gibbs was thinking hard about what had happened between them out there.

After one more trip to the kitchen, Gibbs returned with a couple of fat steaks on a plate, and then busied himself stoking up the fire and getting the meat started on the grill. When there was no more he could do so he sat next to Tony on the couch, leaning back with a sigh that was almost as loud as Tony's had been.

Tony leaned back in a similar fashion and put his sock-covered feet up on the coffee table. He wiggled his toes, enjoying the heat from the fire. "Nice and toasty."

Gibbs placed his feet on the table as well. His socks were red, something Tony hadn't noticed before. "I do believe it was worth freezing my ass off just to see you take a header, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, straight-faced.

"It just may have been worth falling on my face in order to have you help me up, Gibbs," Tony responded, smiling into his beer when Gibbs just grunted.

Tony watched the fire and admired the Christmas tree. Gibbs was staring off into space, but Tony was pretty sure that he was smiling inside. Something about the set of his lips, his relaxed shoulders, the way he fiddled with the label on the beer bottle that told him so. Maybe that spark they'd shared had been as good for Gibbs as it had been for Tony. Probably just as confusing for the older man, too.

Gibbs got up occasionally to tend to the steaks and when they were done Tony went into the kitchen to get the lobster and the utensils they'd need. Gibbs wanted his lobster on the side but Tony garnished his steak liberally with lobster meat. "Steak Colorado a la DiNozzo," he said proudly.

They ate their meal in front of the crackling fire, next to Gibbs' traditional Christmas tree with its family ornaments and twinkling lights, and Tony couldn't have been happier. "This is nice," he said. He wanted Gibbs to know how much he appreciated being invited over but now he'd said it, 'nice' just didn't cut it.

Gibbs nodded slowly and grunted.

"Homey," Tony added. After eating too much he was feeling full and he wondered if it would be impolite to undo his belt.

Gibbs eyed him but didn't respond.

"Snug, too," said Tony with a satisfied smile.

This was the point at which Gibbs would normally slap the back of Tony's head. He didn't, though. Instead, he smiled – just enough to make the corner of his mouth lift a little – and said with a nod, "Happy."

"Happy?" Tony pressed.

Gibbs shrugged and looked a little embarrassed.

"Happy about what, specifically?" Tony asked, determined to tease it out of him.

"I'm happy we're spending Christmas together," Gibbs said, as if it was difficult to get the words out. "You happy now?"

"Oh, very," Tony said, grinning. Gibbs couldn't suppress a smile in response. They were both aware that Tony had pulled words out of him that he would not have ordinarily spoken aloud. Tony added, "I'm also happy I didn't break my neck out there snowshoeing."

"Oh yeah." After a brief pause, Gibbs said, "It was pretty funny, though, seeing you take a nose-dive into the snow." They laughed about it and then Gibbs said, looking pretty serious, "This is good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You and me. Spending time together. Christmas."

Nothing could have pleased Tony more, knowing that Gibbs enjoyed spending his Christmas with him and wasn't itching to be down in his basement working on his latest woodworking project. And to have been the one who brought out that warm smile on Gibbs' face – well, that was monumental. Gibbs was still smiling when he relaxed into the couch, and Tony felt a warmth building inside of him that had nothing to do with the fire flickering in the hearth.

※÷※÷※÷※÷※


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8 - COVER UP**

_**Cover Story [4.20]**__  
Abby: At the end of Deep Six, goth forensic specialist Amy Sutton broke up with her boyfriend because she was digging someone else. Who's the somebody else?  
Tony: Yeah, that part didn't really come up yet.  
Ziva: Yeah, I think he's planning on revealing it, uh, um, you know, in the second part of the book.  
Abby: You guys are so lying. He's gay! The somebody else. I had a feeling, because Amy always wants what Amy cannot have. Does she know?  
Gibbs: Does who know?  
Abby: Forensic specialist Amy, she fell in love with a gay guy, Gibbs.  
Gibbs: Is that why I'm here?  
Abby: No.  
Gibbs: Then Amy's on her own._

Gibbs handed Tony a mug of hot chocolate and settled on the couch next to him with a big cup of coffee. They both sipped their hot drinks and after a while Gibbs leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped around the mug. It took Gibbs a while but eventually he asked, his voice low, "What made you tell me?"

Tony didn't play dumb; he knew what Gibbs was talking about. "Just trying to be honest."

Gibbs turned his head and said sharply, "Then _be_ honest."

Tony shot back, "I _am _being honest! You know, you're the one who said, 'Took you long enough,' and just left. I mean, what am I supposed to think about that? It's almost as bad as 'You'll do.' All it does is raise questions. You can't hit and run like that, Gibbs."

Frowning, Gibbs demanded, "You trying to get a rise outta me, DiNozzo?"

"Oh, no, I'd never do _that_, Boss," Tony retorted sarcastically. Gibbs was still frowning at him so Tony said deliberately, "I'm trying to determine what you meant by that remark. So I know where I stand with you."

Gibbs gave a noncommittal shrug. "I could tell you were itching to tell me something all week."

"So…you didn't think I had the guts to tell you?" Yeah, Tony could understand why he might think that. After all, he rarely revealed anything personal about himself, and even then it was rarely the whole story. _If you tell a lie, make it believable with details._

"You a mind reader now?" Gibbs shot back.

"I don't even know what _I'm_ thinking half the time. You, on the other hand, can see right through me, can't you, Boss?" Tony demanded, somewhat belligerently.

Gibbs looked ill at ease and for a moment Tony thought he was disappointed in what he saw in him. Then it hit him: Gibbs had bought Tony's act, lock stock and barrel. He'd thought that, of all people, Gibbs would have been aware of his true nature, even if he'd kept his knowledge close to the vest. Maybe they weren't as close as he'd thought they were, after all.

Tony said in a near-whisper, "You didn't have a clue that I was gay, did you? You just said 'About time' as a cover up."

"You were with Barrett," Gibbs ground out, as if the words left a bad taste in his mouth.

Startled, Tony asked, "With EJ? What does she have to do with anything?"

Gibbs sent Tony an incredulous look.

"No, she was a _friend_," Tony explained, shaking his head, amused and just a bit relieved.

Gibbs made a derisive sound. "And now you're gay."

"Look, if you've got a problem with it, Gibbs…"

"Don't be an idiot, DiNozzo," Gibbs ground out angrily.

"Oh, so now you think I'm an idiot?" demanded Tony. "Look, this isn't a whim. It isn't even a choice. It's been coming for a while and it's…it's just the way I _am_. That's all. If you don't like this me then–"

Gibbs interrupted, saying fiercely, "You're an idiot if you think I'm judging you on the gender of whoever you have in your bed." He ran a hand over the short hairs at the back his head and said in a milder tone, "You can be irritating as all get-out, and sometimes you just plain drive me crazy, but that doesn't mean I don't…like you."

Tony refused to smile. "You sure about that? Because right now I'm not getting any warm and fuzzy vibes coming from you."

Gibbs gave a soft snort, as if he were fondly exasperated. "Well, gee, sorry DiNozzo. Damn it, of _course_ I like you. Any way you come."

"Really?"

"You may be annoying but you're also compassionate and funny and handsome and brave."

_Wow. Compassionate? Funny? Handsome?_ It was impossible to hold back a smile when Gibbs said something like that. "Really? I'm brave?"

Gibbs chuckled at Tony's response, as if he couldn't help himself. "Yeah, most of all you're brave, DiNozzo. Hell, I wouldn't have the nerve to tell anyone I was batting for the other side. Anyway, it's nobody's damned business who the hell you sleep with. You shouldn't have to announce it to the world."

"I don't _have_ to – I _want_ to. It seems like the right thing to do. Anyway, I'm not about to tell the whole world. Just someone who matters."

"You, uh, got someone who matters?" Gibbs asked, looking at Tony with an intensity that surprised him.

All of a sudden, Abby's words came back to him, the way she'd pleaded with him to give that special someone a chance. Was this the moment she was talking about, and was Gibbs that special someone? Slowly, knowing this was important and he had to be careful not to mess it up, Tony said, "Yeah, yeah, I do. Or I'd like to think so but I'm not sure what they think."

Gibbs said, his gaze never wavering, "Maybe you need to ask, straight out. Be honest about it."

Ah, the honesty word again. Afraid he was incorrectly reading something into Gibbs' words, Tony said, "I don't expect anything to come of it, but I feel like I need to let him know." He realized he'd just used the more accurate 'him' instead of saying the genderless 'them.'

Gibbs looked thoughtfully at Tony. "Telling the truth takes a lot of guts. You're exposing yourself to being judged, and probably asking to get hurt, but there comes a time when you need to let people know who you really are. A time to stop all the pretense. It's tough keeping your guard up every day, never knowing if they're gonna figure it out – or what their reaction is gonna be. Like living your life undercover."

Tony sat there, awed and amazed at the words pouring out of his boss's mouth, a veritable feast that offered insight into his true feelings – if only Tony could decipher what the words really meant. He asked cautiously, "So you're okay with this? With me…"

"Being gay?" Gibbs nodded. "I guess there comes a time when a man has to face the truth. I still say it's nobody's damned business."

Tony gave a slight laugh. The truth was that he felt a little emotional now that it was out. "Better late than never, right? They say the truth can set you free. I know _I_ feel relieved." He felt queasy, too, at the thought of telling McGee and Ziva and a handful of others, and he didn't even want to _think_ about his father's reaction, but he kept that to himself.

"Better than being on the down-low," Gibbs said solemnly.

"Ah, Lieutenant Foreman and Joe Minor. Friends with benefits."

Gibbs looked into his coffee mug as if it held the answers. "It was a lot more than that. Minor said that his friendship with Foreman went back years. They knew each other well, on duty and off."

"Good friends."

"Yeah but somewhere along the way their friendship…became sexual. It was a release, that's all. Didn't mean anything beyond that. Didn't mean they were homosexual. Hell, they had wives and girlfriends."

"Only it changed," Tony said gently.

"Yeah, it did."

"Once they realized how much they cared about each other," Tony said, watching Gibbs' expression closely.

"Once they opened their eyes," said Gibbs. He looked straight at Tony. "And their hearts."

"Hearts?" No way was Gibbs talking about Foreman and Minor, not any more. This was personal now. Rule number 8 was 'never assume,' and Tony wasn't taking a single step forward without being damned sure that he wasn't misreading what Gibbs was saying.

Before Tony could ask for clarification, Gibbs asked, "What did you mean when you said, 'It's been a while'?"

"A while? Oh, yeah…that. I haven't had sex…with any women since…"

"Since EJ," Gibbs ground out.

"Broken record, Gibbs. I told you she was just a friend. I needed someone outside the team to hang with and she was cool."

Gibbs sneered, "Somehow I think she had a different agenda."

"Yeah, at first," Tony agreed. "We got along together, but the zing was missing. The pahh. Besides, I didn't like the way she dissed you behind your back."

Gibbs made a 'humph' sound but Tony thought he appeared secretly pleased. "So these women you didn't date any more…?"

Tony could see he was going to have to do some explaining. He didn't like it, but once it was said, they'd never have to talk about it again. "Things hadn't been very successful in that department for a while. It took me time to figure it out, and a while longer to accept it, but meantime I did some dating. Dinner, dancing and a movie kinda thing. I took some women out…well, I took a _lot_ of women out, but nothing ever got very far. Which is the reason why I took so many out."

"Ah, laying false trails."

"Yeah, I've had a lot of practice doing just that. And lately…"

Gibbs prompted, "Lately?"

"Lately I haven't even bothered with the pretense. There wasn't any point. I joined this group over at St. Andrew's, I don't know, about a year ago. It was mostly a bunch of guys sitting around complaining about how much life sucks, but I met some good people there. There's this one couple, really nice guys – you'd like them, one's the chef at _Fahrenheit_, where I got the lobster? – and they set me up on a date with one of their friends. I wasn't sure about it at first but I felt like I was in this weird limbo when nothing seemed to work and I thought, what the hell? I went out a few times and it started me thinking. I knew that I was interested in men, more so than women at that point, so I went out some more dates, on referrals mostly. For the first time in a long while I was out of my slump. And I felt better about myself."

Gibbs asked curiously, "You like any of these…dates…enough to stick with them?"

Tony smiled. "You mean for more than one date? Sure, a couple of times. I even went out with one guy for three weeks. That was…wow, last year, just before Christmas. I remember that because I was going to meet his family on Christmas Day but you…you invited me to go with you to Layla's."

"Sorry I messed up your big date," Gibbs said, not sounding at all like he was sorry.

"You didn't mess anything up," Tony assured him. "He was nice enough but we disagreed on too many important things, you know, politics and movies, and I knew he wasn't the right man for me."

"So you came with me to Layla's," Gibbs said.

Tony smiled. Gibbs had been a bear and kept challenging him in the weeks leading up to Christmas, yet he'd already told Layla that he'd be bringing Tony, before he'd even asked him if he'd come. "That was the best Christmas I'd had for a really long time. Anyway, dating was stressful, what with work and everything, and trying to keep it quiet that I was going out with guys. I wasn't ready to lay it all out there for the world to see, you know?"

Gibbs was quiet for a minute. "But you are now."

Tony was glad he had the opportunity to talk honestly about this because it had been weighing on his mind for some time. Although he never thought he'd be having this conversation with Gibbs, it turned out Gibbs was a good listener, and he asked some good questions, too. "I _think_ I'm ready. No, I am. I _know_ I am. It's just…_hard_. It's overwhelming, the thought of telling people, face to face. I've procrastinated for a long time, and my life has been so busy and all my energy goes into day-to-day stuff, just living, and the thought of all the mental energy it'll take…"

"Calm down, DiNozzo. It wasn't so hard telling me, was it?" Gibbs asked, allowing a small amount of amusement to show through.

Tony scoffed, "You've got to be kidding! You should have seen me freaking out before you came over last night."

"Your friends, your teammates, they'll be fine, Tony – not that it should make any difference what other people think."

"Yeah, but it does, no matter how much we tell ourselves that it doesn't. I'm afraid that…They think they know me, and they're not going to take it very well when they learn that I'm not the person they think I am. I know that's my own fault but…it's not what I'm going to tell them that matters so much. It's the fact that I've lied to them and they'll never trust me again. Abby will be okay once she gets over that I didn't tell her first, but McGee, he's going to have trouble with me lying to him all these years. And Ziva…?"

Gibbs seemed surprised. "You saying Abby doesn't know?"

"No, you're the first, but then you're the only one I really wanted to tell," Tony admitted quietly. "You're the one who matters." Gibbs was quiet and watching him closely, and Tony had a feeling Gibbs was expecting something more. "Anyway, I've been going out to clubs on my own, but…but that isn't what I'm looking for so now I'm in that weird limbo again." He sighed and put his half-empty mug of cocoa on the low table next to the couch, but then he didn't know what to do with his hands.

Gibbs fixed his blue eyes on Tony. "What _are_ you looking for Tony?"

Well, that was a good question. "Same as anybody, I guess."

Instead of accepting Tony's vague answer, Gibbs leaned closer and demanded, "Be truthful!"

Shit, they were back to this, were they? "I already told you–"

"Tell the damned truth, DiNozzo!"

Tony rose to his feet, not liking the way Gibbs was barking at him. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Gibbs! I told you the truth! If you have some problem with me being gay then you can go to hell–"

"No, the _truth_!" Gibbs stood in front of Tony and poked a finger in his chest, right over his heart. "The truth that's in here."

Tony never knew what came over him, but considering the way Gibbs was badgering him, he later concluded that he'd lost all sense of reason. It was like a suspect who was mentally beaten down until he confessed to crimes he didn't commit. Only it wasn't until he'd blurted out his confession that Tony finally accepted that his words were, indeed, the pure and utter truth. "You want the truth? You want the fucking _truth_? I want you to _love_ me, that's what! I want to know you love me even a _fraction_ of how much I love you because I love you so much, and there are times I just want to tell you and I can't! I can't because–"

"I know…It's all right, I _know_." Gibbs slipped a hand behind Tony's neck, pulled him close and kissed him with a persuasive power that seemed to come directly from his heart. All the lies and truths and everything in between, all those years that Tony had yearned and felt unfulfilled to the point of despair – they faded away. It was one hell of a shock because Tony had long ago accepted that he'd never get what he wanted, and that he'd be fine with simply being Gibbs' friend, but this kiss…this kiss changed everything.

Tony relaxed into Gibbs' embrace, opening is mouth and welcoming the soft slide of Gibbs' tongue with a moan. Gibbs' fingers ran through his hair, urging Tony to angle his head, and the kiss deepened, urgent and hot, and Tony was completely and utterly lost.

"Finally," Gibbs said, holding Tony close, smiling into his eyes.

Trembling a little because this whole thing was out of left field, Tony asked, his voice a whisper, "Why'd you do that?"

"Hell if I know," said Gibbs, looking amused.

But Tony was serious and he needed a serious answer. He leaned back a little. Gibbs' hold on him loosened but he didn't let go entirely. Tony persisted, "But why? You had to have a reason. I mean, you're _Gibbs_. You don't just go around kissing people, I mean co-workers." Tony frowned, stricken with the thought that maybe he didn't know Gibbs at all well. That was really disturbing, especially as he'd just been thinking that Gibbs didn't know him. "You don't, do you?"

"Don't?"

"Go around kissing people. Like…guys."

Gibbs met Tony's gaze head on and he said, his voice deep with sincerity, "No. No, I don't. Well, not until now." Gibbs dropped his arms, only to take Tony's hand in his own. He laced his fingers through Tony's in an act that seemed so familiar and affectionate that Tony thought he must be dreaming. Gibbs gave a small shrug and said, "I care for you, a lot more than you realize, and that's the truth."

Tony slowly sat on the couch, and Gibbs did the same. They sat shoulder to shoulder, fingers of one hand still entwined, and Tony had never been so confused in his life. "Wow…I never…I dreamed but never…" Tony licked his lips and tried to figure this out. Gibbs had kissed him. _Gibbs_! And he said he _cared_ for him. Tony looked sideways at Gibbs and asked cautiously, just to make sure, "So this is new for you? Kissing? That's what you're saying."

"Well, I have kissed before, ya know."

"Men?"

Gibbs made a show of thinking and then said definitively, "Mmm, no."

Good, that was good, thought Tony. He tried to grasp what this meant in the big scheme of things. A kiss, no matter how good it was, or even if it sent a tingly feeling all the way down to his toes, didn't tell him what Gibbs' intentions were, and Tony really needed a clear view of what lay ahead. "See…I have these plans."

Gibbs peered at Tony with some concern. "I thought you wanted this."

"I did. I _do_."

"You don't seem too certain," Gibbs said.

"No, I am but…this is crazy."

"It was long overdue, DiNozzo. You think maybe there's room in those plans of yours for me?"

Tony swallowed hard, sure he was dreaming. "You mean that?"

Gibbs nodded, smiling at Tony's confusion. "This sort of messes up my plans, you know."

"Your plans?"

Nonchalantly Gibbs said, "To remain a firm bachelor. Drink more, date less. Build another boat, one I can sail. Oh, and, one day, to kiss you."

"You've wanted to…to kiss me?" How was it he'd never seen it?

"Crossed my mind. I never thought I'd act on it though," Gibbs said with a soft snort.

Gibbs sounded so casual, as if this meant nothing to him, that Tony's temper flared. "Then why would you kiss me?"

"I guess it had something to do with the way you got all fired up." Gibbs shrugged slightly and smiled at Tony's frown. "Got me fired up, too, and it seemed like the thing to do. I was pretty sure you'd be a good kisser and it turns out I was right."

Tony raised his free hand to his mouth, touching his lips. He saw Gibbs' eyes following his movements and he immediately dropped his hand, wishing that a blush wasn't spreading across his face. Even his ears felt hot and he caught Gibbs sneaking a look at them and doing a poor job of hiding a smile. Tony asked, "How long have you…had this impulse?"

Gibbs looked at their clasped hand and said solemnly, "The other day Diane told me that she was sure I was destined to spend the rest of my days alone."

Tony's heart just about broke, hearing that. "Gibbs, that's…so sad. No, no. You're not alone. You've got people who care about you, you've got us, your family…"

Gibbs was smiling again, and he looked a bit like a kid who'd just discovered something wondrous. "It would only be sad if it was true. The minute she said that I knew she was wrong. Dead wrong. For a lot of years there were things I couldn't let go. I made everyone around me miserable. I knew it but I did it anyway. I drove them away: my wives, anyone who got too close. It took a long time for me to come to my senses but now…now I've found a reason."

Mesmerized, Tony asked, "Reason?"

"A reason to let go. It's _you_, DiNozzo. You're the reason. See, she was wrong. I'm not alone."

"Because you've got me," Tony repeated as if he didn't quite believe it.

Gibbs was still laughing when he dipped his head to kiss Tony, and this time Tony flung his arms around Gibbs and pulled him close, trying to express his emotions through that kiss, all the relief and love and joy he felt. As soon as he heard Gibbs' appreciative groan he knew he'd gotten through, and when Tony slid his hands up under Gibbs' shirt and ran his palms up his muscular back and pulled him close, and Gibbs groaned again, this time with hunger, Tony allowed himself to simply feel the love.

※÷※÷※

Afterwards, with Tony leaning back against Gibbs, enjoying the strength of the arms now wrapped possessively around him, his brain slowly came back online. "A long time ago," Tony said quietly, "I drew this line where I'm over here and you're on the other side. Usually I didn't think about it. It was just _there_, you know? But sometimes it was really tough, not stepping over it."

"Hmm. Seems like we're both on the same side now. That's a start."

"But I don't want to ruin it, what we've got. Our friendship. Working together, being easy with each other."

"Not much we can do about it now the cat's outta the bag." Gibbs softened his cynical comment with a light kiss to Tony's cheek. "We'll manage."

"Yeah, but I know I'll annoy you so much that within a couple of weeks the novelty will wear off and I'll do something stupid to piss you off and we'll yell at each other and you'll get impatient and kick me out, and I don't want to lose my place on the team and I can't do this if it means I'll lose your friendship…I can't _lose_ you." Tony was almost hyperventilating by the time he'd finished, but Gibbs gave him a rough sort of hug and a "Hey!" that, strangely enough, calmed Tony down.

Tony wondered if the hug was a new version of the head slap.

Gibbs relaxed his hold on Tony. "Now you listen to me, DiNozzo. I've been waiting a long time for this, and I'm not gonna let you go so easily. You think I didn't have the same kind of line drawn between us? I've thought long and hard about this but never planned to go anywhere with it." He took a deep breath and said, "Let's just say that until you spoke up, been so damned brave, I would never have taken the chance. Not with you or with your career, or the way it might make you feel about me if it had backfired."

"You've been waiting? For me?"

"Far too long," said Gibbs, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

"But, Gibbs, if anyone finds out, we're both screwed," Tony interjected. This wasn't just about him any more.

"Then we deal with it. Together. But I don't care what anyone thinks. Anyway, we'd be old news soon as some juicier gossip comes along."

Gibbs was wrong. People _would_ care. There'd be negative feedback, for sure, and it would never go away. Tony had been willing to face it on his own, but now he'd dragged Gibbs into it, Tony almost wished he hadn't opened this particular can of worms.

"Hey," said Gibbs, giving Tony a little shake. "Do not even think it."

Tony shrugged and didn't meet Gibbs' eyes.

"This isn't about you. This is about us."

It struck Tony what a life-changing turn of events this was, for both of them. He'd known that the moment he opened up to Gibbs that things would never be the same, but he'd never imagined his boss would reciprocate his feelings. And now he realized how different Gibbs' life would be, too. It wasn't only the way they perceived each other that was affected, but the way they interact with each other at work as well as when they went home (my place or yours?), their sleeping arrangements, their newfound level of intimacy – from now on everything they did would be colored by their new relationship.

Gibbs was watching him carefully and Tony could feel him tense up. "Second thoughts?"

Tony turned his head so he could meet Gibbs' eyes. "No, but…are you sure? You're not into men, Gibbs."

"You sure about that?" Gibbs raised his eyebrows and made a point of looking at his arms holding Tony.

"C'mon," said Tony. "Since when have you been bi?"

"I don't know what it makes me, but ever since I first saw you, I've been…uh…what my dad would call 'smitten.' Yeah," Gibbs said in response to Tony's incredulous look. "I fell for you a long time ago, but I knew nothing would ever come of it. Things have changed over the years though. Look at _you_."

"You mean…Baltimore? That long ago?" Tony asked, astounded. "Why didn't you say something? How is it I never knew?"

Gibbs replied with a rueful smile, "You're not the only one good at covering up. It took us both a while to come to the same conclusion, but d'you really think you were ready for this a year ago? I sure wasn't."

Tony looked askance at Gibbs. "Wait a minute! Earlier…you were talking about _you_, when you said how you wouldn't have the nerve to tell anyone you were batting for the other side. You meant you, literally?"

A sheepish look from Gibbs confirmed it. "I've been trying to figure out a way of letting you know," he admitted. "Listening to Diane, that shook me up a bit. I knew I shouldn't waste any more time only I didn't want to mess up all the good we had together. Guess we're not so different, are we?"

"I guess not," Tony said slowly, trying to digest everything. "I got shook up, too, when Deering blew up our building with all of us in it, a place we thought was safe; he messed up our world. There I was with Ziva, stuck in an elevator that was about to break loose, and I realized this could be our very last moments on earth. I didn't know who else had been trapped or hurt or if you'd been killed, and I was so fucking scared that I'd never get the chance to see you again…" Tony took a moment before continuing. "It made me think. I accepted some truths I hadn't been ready to face until that point. Most of all, I needed to let you know that I cared about you, a lot, but I didn't want to shake up what we had. I can't lose our friendship."

"Hey, I thought we'd settled that."

"But are you sure? Because if you're not and want to go back to the way we were…it won't be easy but I can do it. Nobody ever needs to know and–"

Gibbs gave Tony a light tap on the back of his head. "I am committed to _us_. Get used to it, DiNozzo."

"But you have rules."

Gibbs smiled at that and squeezed Tony's hand. "That line you drew? It's like the rules. They're guidelines, DiNozzo. We change them as needed. So no more lines, okay?"

After a long moment, Tony nodded, accepting what Gibbs had said. "I don't want anything to come between us either." He felt satisfied with his decision; it was as though a great weight had fallen off his shoulders. He'd come out to Gibbs and in return, Gibbs had revealed he cared about him, enough to change his way of life. It looked like they might have a future together after all. Still, Tony had no delusions that it was going to be smooth sailing but they'd be okay with Gibbs at the helm. After all, they did know each other better than anyone else, even if they'd had the occasional blind spot.

There was one more thing Tony needed to know. "Um, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Stan Burley? Chad Hendricks?" Tony prompted. He smiled teasingly, in case he was way off base. "Everybody loves Commander Hendricks and I've seen the way he acts around you, like he's your new best friend."

Gibbs looked a little shocked. "I never so much as held either of their hands, DiNozzo."

"Never? Not any man?" Tony asked.

"Never. Not interested."

"But…but you're holding my hand," Tony pointed out.

Gibbs looked at their linked hands. "Hmm. Sure looks that way." And then he upped the ante a bit by rubbing his thumb across Tony's knuckles. "You sure you're okay with all this?"

Unbelievably aroused and feeling as though he'd been sucked into some kind of alternate universe, Tony nodded and said, "Yeah?" He hadn't meant it to come out as a question but Gibbs nodded so it seemed as though he understood. This would take some getting used to, for both of them, that was for sure. Tony asked, "So what's next?"

Gibbs said, "Coffee."

"Then what?"

"You want to stay?" asked Gibbs, looking a little uncertain at Tony's reaction.

"For tonight?"

Gibbs spoke cautiously, as if he weren't quite sure of Tony's reaction. "I was thinking about something longer. Something with strings attached." Without giving an answer, Tony rose to his feet and stood looking down at Gibbs, who remained seated. Gibbs, who didn't let go of his hand, asked, "You're leaving?"

Gibbs sounded so disappointed Tony leaned down and kissed him slowly and thoroughly. By the time he was finished, Gibbs' eyes were somewhat glazed, which was quite a sight to see. "First off, I'm gonna get your coffee," said Tony. "And then we're going to sit and look at your beautiful Christmas tree while you unwrap your gifts. Then we're going to watch a holiday movie on TV and when it's finished, you're going to lock up, and then I plan to take you, Gibbs, upstairs with me, DiNozzo, to bed."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Only…one thing?"

Gibbs looked at Tony with a wary expression. "What thing?"

"Can I wear your old sweatshirt to bed?"

Puzzled, Gibbs asked, "That old Marines one? It's seen better days."

"That's the one. That's definitely the one." Tony kissed Gibbs again, thinking that maybe Christmas wasn't such a difficult time of year to get through, after all.

※÷※÷※÷※÷※

**Note**: I'll post the next chapter tonight (Saturday) and the final one on Sunday.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9 - PLEASURE AND PAIN**

**Dagger [6.09]  
**_Tony: Maybe that's the plan.  
Ziva: What plan?  
Tony: Exactly._

They tucked into some hot apple pie that Gibbs had bought from a local farm stand while Tony watched him open his gifts. Actually, Tony did most of the unwrapping, much to Gibbs' amusement. The gifts turned out to be clothes and booze, as Tony had guessed, except for Abby's. Her gift to Gibbs was a Silver Ranger compass with luminous points for night use and Tony could tell Gibbs really liked it. Tony insisted they turn out all the lights to test the compass, but because of the glow from the fireplace and Christmas tree, they had to move into the kitchen. Of course they soon got into some playful groping in the dark, which subsequently led to a heavy make-out session on the kitchen table that resulted in a broken plate and, in Tony's case, a mashed lip from misjudging where Gibbs' mouth was in the dark.

※÷※÷※

"Ow!"

"What the hell?"

"M'lip g't squished."

"Turn the damn light on, DiNozzo. Let me look at it."

"No, 'ou'll 'urt me!"

"Stop being such a big baby. Let. Me. See."

"Sheesh."

"Huh. It's not so bad."

"Easy fer 'uo t'say."

"How about…I kiss it and make it better?"

"Um…well…okay."

"Want to take this in the living room?"

※÷※÷※

"It's stopped snowing. Guess I'd better get going," Tony said, looking out the living room window at the darkening street. Gibbs joined him, placing a kiss on the nape of Tony's neck.

"Driving'll be bad," Gibbs said, as if it was a death trap out there.

"I don't know. See? There's a car going down the street. Looks okay."

Gibbs wrapped his arms around Tony from behind and rested his chin on his shoulder. "No, not safe. You'd better stay," he said decisively. "Besides, you're injured."

"I've been cured," said Tony, touching his lip. It was only slightly swollen from being bashed by Gibbs' teeth earlier. It would take more than a fat lip to prevent him from enjoying a make-out session with Gibbs.

"You're not going anywhere."

"I dunno. I could walk home using those snowshoes," Tony suggested, looking at Gibbs out of the corner of his eye.

Gibbs snorted. He slid one hand under Tony's shirt and splayed his fingers across his belly while he sucked on a convenient earlobe.

Tony closed his eyes and forgot all about leaving. "Mmmm. Yeah, that's…good. I guess…I could…stay." He turned around to face Gibbs who pulled him into a kiss, burying his hands in his hair. Tony angled his head and moaned when Gibbs' strong tongue slid between his lips. Gibbs' hands were all over him, caressing his shoulders, his back, grabbing his ass, all rough and demanding like he couldn't get enough of him. They were both yanking at shirts and fumbling with zippers, eager for better access to bare skin, and then Gibbs' hand dipped into Tony's pants and squeezed his hard cock through his underwear. Tony cried out with need, thinking he was going to die from sheer sensory overload.

Gibbs propelled Tony towards the couch to start up where they'd left on not fifteen minutes ago, but before he had a chance to press Tony onto the cushions, Tony cried out, "Wait! Hang on a minute." He stepped back, keeping Gibbs at bay with a hand to his chest.

Gibbs didn't make any attempt to advance but he didn't retreat either. Breathing through his parted lips, he looked Tony up and down. "I don't want to wait all night."

Tony thought that Gibbs looked way too enticing with his shirt riding up and his open fly exposing an obvious bulge in his shorts. After clearing his throat, Tony found his voice and warned, "Okay, but I am not getting down to business on your lumpy old couch when there's a perfectly good bed upstairs."

Gibbs stuck his hands in his back pockets as if he didn't know what to do with them. He had a stubborn look about his mouth when he said, "I don't sleep up there."

Tony knew that the master bedroom with its locked door was off limits, as was the smaller bedroom at the back of the house. The other large room, which faced the street, had heavy hand-built furniture and nice décor – courtesy of Stephanie, the last of the ex-wives, Tony presumed. Gibbs was going to run out of places to sleep one day, he thought.

"I understand, Gibbs. I do. What about the bedroom at the front?"

Gibbs shook his head, looking torn.

Tony asked gently, "You want to tell me what's going on?"

Gibbs shrugged and said in a quiet voice, "I don't want to jinx this."

That surprised Tony. "You're not superstitious."

Once again Gibbs shrugged. "You know what you're always saying…?"

Not sure what Gibbs was referring to, Tony made a wild guess. "Never date anyone who eats more than you do?"

Gibbs gave Tony a sour look. "No, the thing about not doing what you always did before."

"Ah, doing things differently so you don't end up making the same mistakes. Good idea."

"I don't want to make any wrong moves," said Gibbs, sounding slightly unsure. "I can't mess this up. Too much at stake." Tony smiled, feeling good that Gibbs thought so much of him, but then Gibbs said, "My wives…"

Tony placed his hands on Gibbs' shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "Look, this is you and me, Gibbs. Nobody else. We're all that matters and all the stuff in your past, and mine, too, is just that – the past. In order to make this work, we need to shut all the ex-wives and ex-lovers out of the bedroom, because if we don't, it's gonna get mighty crowded in there." That brought a slight smile to Gibbs' face. Tony drew him into a hug with a sigh, wondering how it was that he ended up being the one giving wise advice. "You and me, we've got a good thing going here…or the start of a good thing. I don't want to mess it up either."

Gibbs glanced at the ceiling in the direction of the bedroom but didn't say anything.

It dawned on him that maybe this wasn't about their pasts but about their future. Gibbs, after all, was a stranger to gay sex, and even if Tony was far from an expert, he was way ahead of Gibbs. Cautiously, Tony asked, "Is this about the sex? Because we can take this slow and we don't have to get into anal sex if–"

"No, it's not that," Gibbs said forcefully. "I need you to understand…I…I'll never be over losing them."

Tony gave a small tug at the waist of Gibbs' jeans, drawing him close so their groins bumped. "Of course not. They'll always be a part of you, Gibbs. They were taken from you in one way but…they'll always be here." He touched Gibbs' chest over his heart and leaned forward so their foreheads were touching. Gibbs sighed. After a moment Tony said softly, "I wouldn't expect it to be any other way."

Gibbs kissed him, softer than his usual kiss. It didn't last long but Tony thought it was prefect. Then Gibbs looped an arm behind Tony's neck and drew him in for a slow, hot kiss that made Tony's nerve endings tingle from his balls all the way down to his toes.

Whatever apprehension Gibbs had, it disappeared once they started kissing. They ended up on the couch despite Tony's insistence that the first time they made love it should be in a bed. Not that he had anything against impromptu sex in the kitchen or a good hard fuck over the back of a couch (not that he'd ever been fucked over _anything_ yet). Cars tended to be a bit cramped for his liking. Public toilets were out – non-negotiable. But tonight, well, this was an important turning point for both of them and he didn't want it to start off on the wrong foot.

They kissed, slow, exploratory kisses that soon became more heated; deep kisses that drew moans from Tony and had him pulling desperately at Gibbs' clothing. Then Gibbs' shirt was off, his chest hair silver in the firelight, brown nipples peaking into hard nubs when Tony's fingers brushed against them. Tony twisted one nipple, pretty hard, and Gibbs' breath caught in his throat. He pulled Tony's turtleneck sweater over his head and pushed him flat on the couch, his mouth hungry and demanding.

This was what Tony had wanted, what he'd dreamed of and had longed for. Except, in reality, the way Gibbs made love to him, and the way he seemed to want to possess him was far more intense than any dream. Tony's own response surprised him: feelings of tenderness and the need to somehow protect Gibbs – from _what_ Tony didn't know – made Tony truly understand that this wasn't some fleeting desire, not for him. He felt, deep in his heart, that it was his destiny to be the one to take Gibbs' pain away and somehow bring him happiness.

Tony didn't kid himself. He wasn't anything special. It was just that they had been together for so long, and as a result he felt he understood the man better than anyone. Tony believed that he knew what Gibbs' needed and, to be sure, he needed Gibbs just as much.

Gibbs licked his way from a sensitive spot behind Tony's ear to an even-more hot spot under his chin, his lips softly mouthing at the skin. Tony's pants were halfway down his thighs. He stuck his hand into his underwear and rubbed the heel of his hand over his aching erection but it wasn't nearly enough. One of Gibbs' hands covered his and together they worked on a rhythm that had Tony bucking and moaning.

"Where is it?" Gibbs ground out, pulling his hand away.

"Wha-?"

"Rubber. Whatever…we need."

"Oh. Oh, God," Tony cried, trying to catch his breath. "We need a bed."

Gibbs looked up from where he was sucking on Tony's neck. His lips were wet and enticing, his eyes darker than Tony had ever before seen. "Bed?" he asked stupidly.

Tony pushed at Gibbs' chest. "We need to…go upstairs…or to my place. You choose. Which is it?"

"You don't take dates to your place," said Gibbs, keeping his gaze fixed on Tony's mouth.

Palms cupping Gibbs' face, Tony kissed him possessively and pulled away with a smile. "You're so much more than a date, and if you don't know that by now…If you don't know what you mean to me …well, I'll just have to have to explain it to you, show you…once we're in bed together."

Gibbs stared into Tony's eyes for a moment then rolled off him. He stood with a grunt and a curse and pulled Tony to his feet. "Get your clothes on," he said. "I'll drive."

※÷※÷※

Tony had left the bathroom light on and the door ajar so he'd be able to see Gibbs when they made love, and the expression he saw on Gibbs' face made his heart beat at double-time. Gibbs, it turned out, left his tough-guy persona outside the bedroom door, and every emotion – desire, tenderness, even a hint of anxiety he couldn't quite conceal – was out in the open for Tony to see.

Tony still couldn't believe that this was happening to him. He truly couldn't understand what he'd done to deserve Gibbs' love. Gibbs might not have said it, the actual words, but Tony had no doubt that Gibbs truly loved him in that potent, take-no-prisoners way that way that was all Gibbs.

"You sure?" Tony whispered, unable to take his hands off Gibbs' bare skin as they slowly backed towards his bed. Gibbs' answer was to kiss Tony passionately, driving his tongue into Tony's mouth while he pushed him onto the soft mattress. They'd lost their clothes along the way, coats and gloves and boots and socks in the foyer, pants and sweaters and underwear in the living room. The underwear – Gibbs had literally ripped his boxers off, which had Tony doubling with laughter.

There were some awkward moments involving elbows jammed into ribs ("Ow!" "Sorry!" "Watch it, DiNozzo!") as they grappled their way onto Tony's bed, made clumsy by their eagerness. But then, all of a sudden, Gibbs's naked body was pressed against Tony's, their chests and bellies and long, muscular thighs finally meeting and Gibbs rolled on top of Tony and kissed him long and deeply, taking his breath away.

From then on, the only thoughts in Tony's head were how incredibly slick and wet Gibbs' mouth was, how sexy Gibbs' well-muscled broad back and hairy thighs were, and how fucking arousing it was to have all Gibbs' weight crushing him while their dicks rubbed together.

Breathing heavily, Gibbs pulled at Tony's hips until his ass was hanging off the bed. As soon as Tony eagerly raised his legs, Gibbs eased his rigid cock into him, pushing and _pushing_ with a long, low moan and a shudder, not stopping until he was all the way in. Tony's body accepted its length and breadth as if it were the most natural thing in the world – okay, there was some serious burn involved – but having his ass stuffed with Gibbs' cock sent Tony to the edge. He felt so raw and needy and all he wanted – _needed_ – was for Gibbs to damned well start _moving_.

But Gibbs seemed frozen in place.

Tony asked, his voice strained, "C'mon, what're you waitin' for?" Impatient, he bucked his hips.

Gibbs ground out, "_DiNozzo_," between clenched teeth, pleading for something. Gibbs loomed over Tony, his arms braced on either side of Tony's shoulders, his whole body shaking.

"What? _What_?" Tony squirmed and pulled at his cock. "Just fuck me already!"

Something released in Gibbs and he started thrusting, slowly at first, but once he'd found his rhythm he was going hard and fast, and a short while later Tony, whose hand was doing double-time on his own cock, cried out and came all over Gibbs' chest. Gibbs, red-faced and sweaty, grabbed Tony's hips and thrust hard enough to drive Tony a foot further onto the mattress, and released a strangled sound that might have been Tony's name. "_Dnozzzzo!_"

Later, when they'd cooled down a bit and didn't sound quite so much like they were fish out of water gasping their last breath, Gibbs clung to Tony and whispered harshly in his ear, "I love you."

Tony whispered the same words back, "I love you," positive that he would never experience a happier, more fulfilling moment in his entire life. Even if his anus felt like it was on fire. And all his muscles ached. And he felt like he'd just gone ten rounds with Ali. And lost.

Except he'd won.

Tony grinned and fell asleep.

※÷※÷※

What touched Tony was the way Gibbs treated him, as if he was the most special person in the world. As if he was the _only_ person in the world. From now on, to Gibbs, as a lover, that's exactly what he was, the only one. Tony would never look at another person, male or female or anything in between, again. Not while he had Gibbs. And as for Gibbs, even if a good portion of his heart was forever connected to his girls, there was plenty more of it available for loving Tony.

The first time with Gibbs turned out to be pretty incredible. It wasn't just that Gibbs was good in bed – he was attentive and focused, and _man_, he knew how to make love with his hands and his mouth. But there was a depth to their lovemaking, an intensity that came from somewhere deep within. This was unlike anything Tony had ever experienced and he could tell that Gibbs, too, was deeply affected by their deep connection.

Tony mused, "You think it was always there, like it was dormant? And it woke up all of a sudden?"

"Go to sleep," Gibbs replied grouchily.

※÷※÷※

After the second round, when they were lying in bed with their hands linked together, breathing hard and grinning at the ceiling and sneaking peeks at each other and then grinning some more out of sheer happiness, Gibbs was…well…the only description that seemed to fit was _sweet_. Okay, so the words 'Gibbs' and 'sweet' were not exactly synonymous, but it turned out that Gibbs was exactly that.

He rolled over and buried his face in Tony's neck, murmuring, "Never thought…" and "Dammit, DiNozzo."

Tony stroked Gibbs' head – he seemed to really like it – and said some similar things to him. Tony whispered about love and happiness, and he made unwavering promises to be true to Gibbs forever. Only _he_ said the actual words.

"Strings?" Gibbs asked, raising his head off Tony's chest, seeking confirmation in Tony's eyes.

"Hopelessly tangled up in you," replied Tony, not caring that he sounded like a Lifetime movie.

※÷※÷※

In the early hours of the morning Tony rolled over and promptly fell out of bed, landing on the hardwood floor. "Aaaaah shit!"

Gibbs peered over the side of the bed, half asleep. "Got a problem down there?"

"That is it! I'm gonna buy a bigger bed," Tony said, scrambling to his feet. He rubbed his sore backside. "There're sure to be some good deals in day-after-Christmas sales."

Gibbs openly admired Tony's half-naked body. Tony was wearing Gibbs' soft sweatshirt but he was naked from the waist on down. "You planning on beatin' the crowds dressed like that?"

Not paying any attention to Gibbs, Tony paced off the feet to determine how big a bed would fit in the space. "King would fit but maybe a queen would be better."

Gibbs squinted at Tony's bedside clock. "Get back in bed, DiNozzo. It's only 0400."

Okay, so it was still dark out. Besides, his bedroom was chilly and Gibbs was enticing. "We'll go shopping later then," Tony replied, raising his chin.

With a shake of his head, Gibbs lifted the blanket and without any more ado, Tony slipped into the warm bed.

Gibbs was taking up most of the bed, which gave Tony a good excuse to sidle up to his warmth. He wriggled and shifted until he got comfortable and then rested his cheek on Gibbs' chest with a contented sigh. Gibbs grunted and wrapped his arms around Tony's back, which was good because they were big men and the bed was narrow, and Tony didn't want a repeat of his earlier mishap.

Planting a kiss on Tony's forehead, Gibbs murmured, "Next time don't roll over."

In reply, Tony grumbled under his breath, "…some people…hog the blanket…" and a moment later went back to sleep.

※÷※÷※

Tony sighed with contentment, even though he was sore in places that he'd never been sore in before. "You know, for a guy who's had no experience with same-sex sex, you're pretty amazing with same-sex sex, let me tell you. Not to mention you have an incredibly talented tongue," he said over his shoulder.

Gibbs rubbed Tony's stomach. "Well, I _have_ read _The Plumber's Bible_," he said with a knowing smile.

Tony shifted his shoulders so he could eye Gibbs, unsure how he should take that, wondering at the same time if there really was such a book. "Soooo…one's the male part and one's the female part and they fit together? Is that what you're saying?"

"Well, yeah, but in plumbing, the gender doesn't matter. Not like with electric." At Tony's skeptical look, Gibbs explained, "Once they're screwed together, the flow can go either way. It's bidirectional."

Tony couldn't help laughing. "Is that what we are?" He asked, making the word sound sexy as he ground his bottom against Gibbs, "Bidir_ection_al?"

Gibbs gently slapped Tony's hip. "I don't know what we are, DiNozzo. All I know is I love you."

Tony swallowed, trying not to get too emotional over Gibbs' blunt proclamation. He couldn't help asking, just to be sure, "You really do?"

"Well, yeah." Gibbs frowned at him, clearly puzzled. "You think this is a one-time thing?"

"No! I hope not…I mean…no. Of _course_ not." All of a sudden he wondered if he'd totally misinterpreted Gibbs' intentions. "It isn't, is it?"

Gibbs raised up on one elbow. His perplexed stare turned into a look of exasperation. "Hasn't anyone ever told you they love you before?"

"Yeah, only… It's just that I…I've never believed anyone before, when they told me they loved me."

"I ever lie to you?"

Tony picked at the edge of the blanket and shrugged. "Um…" A light tap to the top of his head made Tony raise his eyes. "You don't lie."

"Is there a _but_ in there, DiNozzo?"

"Well…It's just that this is too good to be true." Tony found his face heating up under Gibbs' scrutiny. "I get the feeling you're gonna come to your senses anytime now and realize that this was all a huge mistake. See, you make me feel really good, like really incredible, and it seems like we have this _really_ good connection, and the truth is that now I've had a taste of what life could be like, with you, I'm scared to death you're going to want to go back to your solitary life. And where would that leave me?" Tony took a breath and when he peered at Gibbs from under his eyelashes, he was afraid he'd see rejection in Gibbs' eyes.

Instead, he found Gibbs smiling at him indulgently. "You're gonna drive me crazy," Gibbs said.

Before Tony could respond, Gibbs captured his mouth in a deep kiss. He took his time, leisurely exploring Tony's mouth while his hands meandered across Tony's body, stroking and caressing whatever bare skin he could find. As Tony was only wearing Gibbs' old sweatshirt, everything below his waist was fair game: thighs, hips, genitals. And _God_, when Gibbs' clever fingers brushed along Tony's inner thighs and honed in on his hardening cock, and Gibbs' rough palm slid up and down Tony's shaft while his tongue declared ownership of his mouth, Tony gave in and submitted with a long, low moan.

Tony could barely comprehend that his dream had changed into reality, it had happened so fast. How could a few words, his admission of his sexual preferences, have set this whole thing in motion? Yet here he was, with Gibbs making love to him, saying he _loved_ him. It was a deep, real love that involved some pretty hot sex, and Tony believed that it would be a lasting love, too. And here was Gibbs, warm and naked and making Tony feel fucking amazing, and Tony could literally _feel_ the love brought to life with every brush of Gibbs' lips across his heated skin. How was this even possible?

Gibbs's lips moved from Tony's mouth and across his cheek, kissing him gently. He said in a low, husky voice, "You listening?"

Tony nodded and buried his face in Gibbs' neck, overwhelmed by the feelings that were building within him. "Yeah," he whispered on a breath.

"I love you, DiNozzo, and if I have to keep saying it all damned day and night, I will. Believe me."

His mind in a fog, Tony licked his lips and asked, "Believe you?"

"Believe I love you," Gibbs said, his embrace tightening around Tony's shoulders.

"You love me," Tony said, no longer making it a question. He liked the way those words rolled off his tongue.

"Well, yeah, DiNozzo, that's what I've been telling you. I get the feeling this is just the beginning of all sorts of trouble," said Gibbs, a smile spreading across his face.

"Too much trouble?" Tony asked, liking that Gibbs was smiling so much.

"Huh. Nothing I can't handle," Gibbs said with a soft snort.

"Can I remind you later on that you said that?"

"You gonna throw it in my face every chance you get?" Gibbs demanded.

"Probably." Tony stroked Gibbs' bare stomach and said in a quiet voice, "I'll behave."

Gibbs chuckled, his disbelief plain to see.

"I'm serious," Tony protested, a little hurt that Gibbs had doubts. "I'll try."

"And where's the fun in that? No, I don't want you to change." Apparently finished with the conversation, Gibbs stretched and groaned. "Aaah, I'm stiff. I need coffee."

Tony laughed, knowing that Gibbs would never change. "The coffee maker is set to turn on at 0700, which is…" He glanced at the clock. "…just about now. So, what do you think? King or queen?"

"What?"

"King or queen-sized bed? Or something bigger if it's available?"

"Hell, go for the biggest one."

"I think I already have," Tony said with a grin, unable to keep his happiness bottled up. "You want to replace the mattress in your own bedroom?"

"Yeah. Might as well start fresh."

"You want firm?"

"For my back."

"Okay."

"Good. So that's settled." Gibbs closed his eyes. "Wake me when the coffee's brewed."

Tony relaxed within the circle of Gibbs' arms, comforted in a way he'd never thought possible. How close he'd come to missing this, to not opening up to Gibbs. How stupid he'd been to think that Gibbs would think less of him, or that he'd be better off keeping his personal life to himself. Tony sighed and the movie lines Abby had quoted came back to him. Gibbs was dozing, so Tony whispered them to himself, "When you fall in love, you just know it, through and through."

※÷※÷※÷※÷※


	10. Chapter 10

**Here you go, the final chapter...notes at end.**

**CHAPTER 10 - BIG PLANS**

**Silent Night [6.11]  
**_Tony: Not what I expected to be doing on Christmas Eve.  
McGee: What did you expect to be doing?  
Tony: Not this.  
McGee: You had no plans.  
Tony: I had plans. I had big plans. Big, big plans._

There are always consequences to ones actions, no matter how benign. Tony knew this all too well. If he hadn't spoken up, Gibbs would never have made his own, similar admission and they would not be lying in Tony's bed, happily wrapped in each other's arms on the day after Christmas.

There was no doubt in Tony's mind that if he had not told Gibbs he was gay, Gibbs would have been content to keep his deeply buried feelings…well, deeply buried. That thought maddened Tony, not only because he would have been deprived of the hard-earned reward of being loved by Gibbs, but because Gibbs would defy all sense and choose to remain in a prison of his own making.

Except that Gibbs _had_ shared a very personal part of himself with Tony, and the solitary, independent ex-Marine was going to have to deal with the repercussions of that choice. Gibbs had a straightforward way of dealing with things though.

"You. Me. We're having sex," Gibbs had said. Tony had tried valiantly not to laugh. Gibbs scowled and said, "So someone makes something of it. We'll deal with it." _Don't fuck with me._ _Period_.

He didn't seem to be concerned with the future, while Tony ran countless scenarios, possible actions and adverse reactions, creating a threat assessment in his mind. Tomorrow they would be back in the office at nine a.m., and uncertainty was beginning to eat away at the edges of the safe little cocoon Tony and was currently enjoying with Jethro.

Half asleep and spooning behind Tony, Gibbs gave a soft groan and tightened his grip on him. "What's the matter?"

"Work. Life. Where to go to buy a new bed," Tony said in an attempt to be light.

"Bed for you. Mattress for me. For us." Gibbs nuzzled Tony's neck, his breath hot. "It'll work itself out."

"What? No plan of action? No massive military campaign?"

"We need a plan?"

"Wouldn't hurt."

Gibbs sighed. "The team won't be in until noon."

They'd be full of stories about all the fun things they'd done while at Breena's aunt's home: sledding and games and eating to excess. Abby would bring back leftovers and cookies. Tim would have a hard time keeping his mind on work for a while.

And Tony wouldn't be able to tell them about how he'd spent his Christmas, not the full story, anyway. Even saying he'd eaten Christmas dinner and had gone snowshoeing with Gibbs would raise some eyebrows.

"I'm not ready for this," said Tony, wishing that his friends just _knew_ and he wouldn't have to go through the whole process, telling them, explaining and even defending himself, dealing with their shock or disbelief, and then later, having people look at them sideways at work – because the word was sure to spread that Tony DiNozzo was sleeping with his boss. He covered his face and moaned. "Oh God."

Gibbs rested his hand on Tony's belly and gently stroked circles on it. "We'll figure this out, DiNozzo. There's no rush."

Tony turned his head. "I'm not sure I want…Do you keep this between just us?"

Gibbs kissed him. "Best kept secrets…"

"They'll catch on by the end of the first day," Tony groaned.

"So tell 'em. All at once." Gibbs oozed practicality.

"Rip it off like a band-aid? Yeah, right. I can just see you standing on your desk, announcing, "Gather round, probies. DiNozzo and me, we're doing it. Now get back to work. Grab your gear–" Ow! Did you just headslap me?"

Gibbs said 'obviously' with one raised eyebrow. "I never said _I_ was gonna tell them, DiNozzo."

"Oh."

"I can do it if you want."

Tony stared at him. "Wait a minute, you're volunteering? Aren't you the guy who said it was nobody's damned business, like yesterday?"

"So, plans change," Gibbs said, ruffling the hair that trailed down Tony's stomach and back up to his chest again. He rubbed the pad of his thumb around Tony's nipple and Tony's breathing quickly became irregular.

Gibbs' hand moved down to rest on Tony's stomach, which gave him a chance to gather his wits and ask, "You'd do that? Stand up in front of everyone and out yourself?"

"Seems as though it would be outing both of us. But yeah."

"Wow. Thanks. But…I'll do it. I started this whole thing. Best if I finish it by telling our friends."

"Vance?"

Tony cringed. "Oh yeah. That won't be easy. I hate to think…"

"He'll give us a song and dance. Get all pissy. Lay down the law. He'll come around though."

Tony smiled. "We'll invite him for dinner."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "That'll be fun."

Enjoying the feeling of Gibbs' rough hand on his stomach, Tony said, "I'll see about buying a bigger bed today. And we'll get your mattress, right? Maybe someone'll deliver same day. If not we'll just have to suck it up and sleep here."

"You plan to sleep?"

Tony smiled, eradicating the women of the past from his mind. "After sex, yeah. I need my beauty rest, Gibbs."

"So we can sleep at my house," Gibbs said matter-of-factly. "I guess the bed upstairs will do. For now."

Tony could feel the tension hiding underneath Gibbs' veneer of confidence. Did he really think that Tony cared about sleeping in a bed that had a long history? Well, he did, sort of. Tony was willing to ignore the fact that Gibbs had had sex in that bed upstairs in his house with at least one ex-wife (Steph, who Tony actually liked a lot), but he'd also slept there with Colonel Mann, Dr. Ryan, and possibly M. Allison Hart, who gave Tony the creeps every time he thought about her. Tony said, "That'll be good."

Gibbs nipped at Tony's neck just above the neckline of his old sweatshirt. "Only good?"

"Good, fantastic, incredible." Tony turned a little inside Gibbs' arms. "I thought you didn't want to sleep in that bed?"

"I thought you wouldn't want to…"

"Because of all your women?" asked Tony.

"All my women? You think I had a rotating door?"

"Don't get all pissy, Gibbs. It's okay that you enjoyed yourself. I'd be more surprised if you didn't have half the women in DC knocking on your door. You're an attractive man and –"

"Hey," Gibbs warned. "I don't care about them."

"You don't?"

"No. I don't. Okay?" Gibbs said, his tone saying he didn't want to hear any more about it.

"Okay." Tony kissed Gibbs deeply, showing his appreciation and love. Their lips parted and Tony whispered, "Your bed or mine, I don't care. It's _you_ that matters." Apparently he had said the right thing because Gibbs' mouth descended once again, and Gibbs showed him exactly who he cared about.

※÷※÷※

After coffee came breakfast and they headed for the shower only somehow they ended up back in bed before they had a chance to get dressed. They'd pushed the bed against the wall and Tony was under the sheet, alternating flicking his tongue back and forth across the sensitive tip of Gibbs' penis and sucking on the head. Gibbs was groaning loudly, one hand clenched in the bedding, the other gripping Tony's hair. Tony barely noticed the pain because he was concentrating on sucking really hard with the intention of driving Gibbs crazy. It seemed to be working nicely. Gibbs started to thrust is cock into Tony's mouth and Tony was moaning away, but all of a sudden he had the feeling that something was wrong. He released of Gibbs' cock and pushed the sheet off his head, looking around. "You hear something?"

"Fuck, don't stop now," Gibbs growled, pushing at Tony's shoulder.

Tony brushed him off. "No, I heard something." There it was again, a door closing quietly, the sound of someone moving around – in his apartment. "_Gibbs_," Tony hissed.

Before either of them could move, there was a knock on the bedroom door and it opened, and standing there with a dumbfounded expression was Tony's father.

※÷※÷※

Senior: "Holy Father of Jesus!"

Tony: "Oh fuck! _Fuck_!"

Gibbs: "Shut the damn door!"

※÷※÷※

Tony was out of bed and into jeans in record time. At least he was already wearing the Marines sweatshirt. On his way out, he glanced back at Gibbs, only to find him laughing and shaking his head.

"That isn't helping," Tony hissed.

"You want help?" asked Gibbs, still grinning.

"No, I can handle this," said Tony, angry but not at Gibbs.

Senior was pacing up and down the living room, his face red, either from anger or embarrassment; Tony couldn't tell which. As soon as he spotted Tony, he strode up to him and, pointing at the now-closed bedroom door, demanded, "What the hell was _that_, Junior?"

Tony was sorely tempted to say, 'That was me giving my boyfriend the DiNozzo Blowjob Special, Dad.' Only, Senior's face was flushed dark red and Tony was afraid his dad was going to have a stroke.

While Tony took a moment to figure out what he was going to say, Senior took advantage of the silence and started in on Tony. He held up a small gift-wrapped box and said in a loud voice, "I come here, at great expense I might point out, to see my only son and to deliver this family signet ring to him, only to find him in bed with…who the hell was that?"

There had been many times when Tony would have backed off, given in or otherwise played the situation down. But, he quickly realized, as his anger grew, those times were just another thing he was relegating to his past. "Dad, this is my apartment," said Tony. His father started to talk over him but Tony rose to his full height and stood as he imagined Gibbs might, proud and with his back as straight as an arrow, and said firmly, "This is my home and I specifically told you that you were not invited here for Christmas. How'd you get in, anyway?"

Senior waved his hand dismissively in the direction of the door. "That nice lady down the hall. She said she had a key for when she feeds your fish when you're away. Look, I was going to take you out for our traditional Christmas breakfast even if it _is_ a day late and…what _is_ all this?"

"I don't want you here Dad. I thought I made that clear on the phone."

"But Son, I'm trying to make up for all those missed Christmases. This is the family ring, solid gold with the DiNozzo crest inlaid in precious–"

Tony snatched the gift out of his father's hand and interrupted him. "Fine, I've got it now. About twenty years too late, I might point out. Look, I'm busy right now and I have to go to work soon, so how about you go back to your hotel and we can meet up later…" – Tony knew he was going to regret this – "…like for dinner or–"

But Senior wasn't easily distracted. He looked from the bedroom door to Tony and said, as if the penny had just dropped, "But…that was a _man_."

Tony almost laughed at the incongruity of it all. He almost rolled his eyes, too. Instead he looked steadily at his father while he took hold of his arm. "You need to leave now."

"But…you're not…you're not homosexual! Oh…oh! How _could_ you? Oh God, where did I go wrong? That man, he _forced_ you, he…Junior, what would your mother think?"

For a second Tony's mouth hung open. Then his anger kicked in and he replied tersely, "My mother would support me for following my heart, Dad, and don't you go bringing her into this! Anyway, who the fuck are you to judge me? I…I…You know what? You need to get the hell out of my home. Now."

Senior tried to drag his arm out of Tony's grip, but Tony had years of experience dealing with uncooperative suspects. He not only didn't loosen his grip but he shoved his father against the wall. Seeing his dad's eyes widen with confusion and a hint of fear gave Tony a small feeling of satisfaction.

Unfortunately, DiNozzo Senior was not a man used to accepting the word 'no' and he struggled until Tony was forced to twist his arm and propel him towards the door. When Senior cried out in pain Tony wondered what he was doing. He was about to release him when from behind them Gibbs asked, "You need a hand here?"

"No, he's just leaving." Tony let go of his father's arm and stepped back, not wanting to even touch him at this point.

While Senior spluttered and complained, Tony stepped back and crossed his arms, settling what he hoped was a neutral expression on his face. Gibbs moved to his side in an unspoken demonstration of support. A glance at him told Tony that although his lover had pulled on his pants, he was shirtless and, even if it was a little distracting at that moment, Gibbs had a physique to be proud of.

Gibbs caught Tony's double-take and quick assessment and he smirked in response.

Senior, straightening his clothing and muttering about being manhandled, sent Gibbs a dirty look. He took a step forward and said loudly in Gibbs' face, "My son is not a fag! This is all your fault, you cocksucking–"

Tony launched himself at his father and, honestly, after it was all over, he couldn't remember what he'd done, just that he'd been blindly furious and that he'd thrown some punches, and from the state of his right hand, that he must have caused some damage.

※÷※÷※

Gibbs had not only thrown DiNozzo Senior out of the apartment, but he'd followed him into the hall. There had been shouting and a thump or two, but as Gibbs returned unharmed – except for reddened knuckles on his right hand that matched Tony's sore knuckles – that was all Tony cared about.

The skirmish with his father had left Tony feeling down, almost weak, as if he'd gone ten rounds in the ring. Nobody wanted to fight with their own flesh and blood, even if the guy was a 'homophobic asshole.' Those were Gibbs' words, muttered under his breath. There was no satisfaction in it although Tony suspected that Gibbs was more than pleased about being able to rough Senior up.

※÷※÷※

Tony was in the bathroom, soaking his right hand in cold water when Gibbs appeared in the doorway. Tony turned, reluctant to talk about it, but all Gibbs did was look at him with a slightly sad smile while holding out his arms. Tony didn't need any more of an invitation. He was immediately wrapped in Gibbs' warm, safe embrace, and it took all his strength not to break down like a little kid.

"I hate this," Tony said, his words muffled in Gibbs' chest. "Fighting," he added, to be clear.

Gibbs patted him on the back and said, "It's done. Let's get washed up."

※÷※÷※

They showered together, gently washing then drying each other off with big fluffy towels, being careful of the bruises Tony had sustained from his run-in with the unfortunate Joe Minor. Tony had a feeling that Gibbs liked taking care of him. He didn't mind it, really. Okay, it was satisfying, knowing that Gibbs loved him enough to be there for him when he really needed the support, no questions asked.

Tony also loved that even if he made fun of Tony's expensive mango-pineapple shampoo, Gibbs chose to wash his own hair with it instead of the generic brand that sat on the shower shelf. When Gibbs squinted at the plain shampoo bottle, Tony explained, "Ducky gave it to me to use whenever I get a head injury. Antiseptic." Gibbs nodded in understanding.

They shaved and dressed, and both men downed another cup of coffee while sitting at Tony's breakfast bar. The little box sat on the counter. Tony gave in and opened it. Gibbs was watching him, curious, so Tony removed the heavy gold ring and held it up so he could see it. "The DiNozzo family ring. See the coat of arms? It's ancient, been passed down to the heir on his 21st birthday for generations. Only somehow Senior got mugged and the ring was stolen right before my birthday," he said, his tone neutral.

Gibbs took the ring from Tony's hand and squinted at it. "This just turn up?"

Tony shrugged. "Apparently. Took twenty years."

"Hmmm."

"Yeah. Exactly what I thought," Tony replied glumly, taking the ring back. He returned it to the box and neither of them talked until Tony said reluctantly, "I should call him."

Gibbs stared and then a neutral expression slid over his face.

Tony sighed deeply. "Go ahead, say it."

Gibbs walked over to the sink and washed his cup before turning to Tony. "He won't give an inch," Gibbs warned.

Tony's shoulders slumped. "Yeah. I know. But…"

"But he's still your dad," said Gibbs, nodding in what may have been understanding, even if he didn't like what it was that he understood. He leaned across the counter and gently took hold of Tony's right hand. He kissed his knuckles. "You're a good man, DiNozzo, but he will never see it."

After a while, Tony nodded. "I'll give it a few days and then I'll send an email. That way I won't lose my temper again." He could see that Gibbs was upset over what had gone down. Tony squeezed his hand. "What I hate, apart from the intolerance and stupid things he said, is that he's managed to make a beautiful morning into something really sad. Me, I can take it, but I hate it so much that he hurt you. And I hate that I brought him here, even if it wasn't directly, and–"

Gibbs pulled Tony to his chest, hugging him tightly. "Don't. Don't," he said, his breath warm on Tony's neck. He kissed Tony with warmth and affection, confirming his love for him. Tony clung to him and tried not to let the pricking behind his eyelids develop into tears, which would be totally embarrassing.

Gibbs said in a firm voice, "Let's get dressed. We'll put this behind us and move on."

Tony nodded, unable to respond, though with Gibbs, words weren't really necessary.

※÷※÷※

Gibbs sat by Tony's side on the couch. Tony slumped against him, staring into space. Eventually Tony took in that the sun was streaming in the windows and that it had to be well after ten. "Work," he asked, his voice slightly rough.

Gibbs made an affirmative sound. "I called in. We've got until noon."

※÷※÷※

The rest of the day was as Tony had predicted. The team returned with everyone in good spirits, bearing gifts of food and stories of snowball fights and a marathon game of Washington-Opoly. Tim was beaming. He'd netted the Bureau of Engraving, the Pentagon and the White House and made a bundle of cash.

"I'm sorry to tell you, Timmy, but it's not real money," Tony said with a smirk.

Tim had smiled right back. "Actually it is, we played for cash. Pennies on the dollar amount but it added up. Made a sweet two hundred."

Tony did his best to act happy, but the morning's fight with his father had left a bad taste in his mouth. At noon, Tony checked and confirmed that his dad had left DC. At 12:05 Gibbs cornered Tony in the elevator and held him in place with hands on his cheeks and kissed him, open-mouthed and just that bit aggressive. It was thoroughly arousing, making Tony moan and go so weak in the knees so he had to grab onto Gibbs' coat just to stay upright.

Afterwards – after Tony and Gibbs ventured out into the bitterly cold afternoon to pick up hot drinks and lunch for the whole team – Tony felt better, renewed somehow. And late that afternoon Tony came to grips with the fact that nobody else's opinion mattered because he was in love with Gibbs, and Gibbs, apparently, was in love with him, and neither of them was going anywhere anytime soon.

Tony tried several times to announce to everyone – colleagues and friends – that he was now with Gibbs, and they were together, but he was either interrupted or he started to feel panic rising and had to head for the bathroom to dash water on his face. Ziva was eyeing him suspiciously, Tim kept frowning in his direction, and Ducky asked him – twice – if he was all right. Tony deflected and regrouped.

At the end of the day, when Gibbs announced everyone should go home, Tony still hadn't said anything. There was always tomorrow he reasoned, even though he knew that it would be no easier the next day. Gibbs nodded at Tony, meaning see you later, and remained at his desk.

Gibbs was still at his desk when Tony stepped into the elevator with Tim, Dornie and Abby, who was being driven home by Tim because her car didn't handle snow-slicked roads at all well. Palmer and Ducky joined them, and at the last moment Ziva slipped in. They crowded together in the small elevator car, buttoning up their coats in preparation for the cold weather, chatting about road conditions and the holidays. The elevator descended and suddenly jerked and halted in between floors. There were small cries of mild alarm and just as Ducky was about to hit the emergency button the elevator started up again.

"Hey, we're going back up," exclaimed Palmer.

He was right. The elevator rose to the floor they'd just left, the doors opened and standing there was Gibbs looking expectant.

"You going down, Boss?' Tony asked, getting the feeling that Gibbs was up to no good. "How'd you…? Never mind."

Gibbs stepped in, nodded at the others and shouldered his way to the back so he could stand next to Tony. A second after the doors closed and the elevator began its descent one again, Gibbs turned towards Tony and, as if were the most normal thing in the world, adjusted Tony's woolen Burberry scarf around his neck.

Tony stood stiffly, eyes wide, and wondered what the hell Gibbs was up to. He felt his face turning red. Abby, who was standing next to Gibbs, seemed amused by Gibbs' attention to Tony. But then her eyes narrowed with suspicion and when Gibbs grinned and grasped Tony's hand they became impossibly large. "Tony?" she whispered.

Tim turned his head to see what was going on and he, too, saw Gibbs' hand holding Tony's. Tim's mouth fell open, his eyes grew big and he shook his head, muttering, "Jeez."

"Boss?" asked Tony, his voice high-pitched.

"Where're your gloves?" Gibbs demanded.

"Uh, pocket?" Tony extricated his hand from Gibbs and looked up to find everyone watching them with interest.

The elevator bell dinged, the doors opened, and its occupants piled out. Abby, Tim and Dornegat stood to one side, speechless, though Abby was clinging to Tim's arm and jumping up and down in excitement. Ducky and Palmer seemed to find it very amusing, Palmer even going so far as to punch Ziva in the arm in his excitement. Ziva, after she got over being punched by Palmer, studied her boss and her co-worker, and said, "Does this mean I win the pool?"

Abby shook her head, never taking her eyes off the couple. "Not yet. Wait, wait and see…"

Gibbs walked past the gawking people, ushering Tony ahead with a hand to his back. They stopped a few feet from the elevator. "Put your gloves on, DiNozzo." Tony, dazed and unsure what rabbit hole he'd fallen into, did as he was told. Acting as if they didn't have a small audience, Gibbs sniffed the air. "Good night for fire." He looked at Tony, his blue eyes twinkling, "How 'bout I cook us up a couple of steaks?"

Tony whispered, "_What_ are you doing?"

Gibbs shrugged and pulled on his own gloves. "You know what? I should go shopping for a new mattress after dinner. And I'm not sleeping in that twin bed of yours again, so you'd better bring your checkbook."

"Gibbs," warned Tony in a low voice. His face felt like it was burning up out in the cold air and he could literally feel his co-workers' eyes burning holes into his back.

In a quiet voice that only Tony could hear, Gibbs said, "You know I love you, DiNozzo."

His mouth hanging open, Tony nodded. He croaked, "And you call _me_ impulsive and crazy?"

Gibbs' face lit up. "Guess you must be rubbing off on me." He shoulder-bumped Tony and grinned. "Hey, you know you owe me? We never finished what we started this morning."

Coming to his senses, Tony pulled on his gloves and said, "Okay, that's enough!" He tore his eyes away from Gibbs and headed for his car – only he stopped in his tracks a few steps towards his regular parking spot. He'd driven in with Gibbs that day. "Oh, man…"

Gibbs snuck his hand in the crook of Tony's arm and smoothly guided him to his own car. "The way I see it, this is about us, DiNozzo. Just you and me. Nobody else." He let go of Tony and walked to the driver's side while Tony stood at the passenger side door. Before Gibbs unlocked his car he looked across the roof towards Tony. "That is, if you'll have me."

"You know I will," Tony replied, barely aware that his friends were straining to listen to everything he and Gibbs were saying.

"You, DiNozzo…?"

Tony couldn't help shaking his head, even as he smiled. "Yeah, I take you, Gibbs."

"Damn right you do," said Gibbs.

"God help us," Tony sighed, and Gibbs laughed aloud.

They both got into the car and Gibbs started the engine.

"Did you plan this?" asked Tony, cranking up the heat.

"Nope. I plan to have a good time tonight, though." Gibbs leaned over and slipped a hand behind Tony's neck, drawing him in ever so gently and kissing him, long and slow.

When Gibbs pulled away, Tony complained, "They'll see us."

Gibbs glanced through the rear window and turned to smile at Tony. "Yup."

"Oh, what the hell." Tony flung his arms around Gibbs' neck and accused, "You are _such_ a show-off."

While DiNozzo was busy kissing Gibbs in his car in the parking garage at NCIS, their friends – who were soon joined by what seemed like half the workers in the building as they left work – were laughing, hooting and applauding in the distance.

Although their jubilant voices only vaguely registered in Tony's mind, he thought about his big plans for Christmas and how much his life – both of their lives – had changed in such a short time.

"Gibbs?"

"Mmm?"

"I forgot to tell you. I ordered our beds today from Bob's Big Beds and they said they'd deliver your mattress first, this afternoon. They'll do my bed tomorrow. They said they wouldn't deliver without us there so I told them it was a matter of national security that it was delivered right away, so they agreed. They seemed to know you. I told them to leave it on the porch. So we don't have to go shopping. We can go straight home. To your home."

"National security, huh? We'd better go rescue it then, before it gets kidnapped," Gibbs said with a smirk, starting the car and driving fast in the direction of his home.

※÷※÷※

After they'd tested Gibbs' new mattress, for sturdiness as well as comfort, and Tony was lying sated within Gibbs' arms, Gibbs said, "You know the ring?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"You know your family crest has two unicorns on it?"

"Yeah?" Tony knew Gibbs; he was leading up to something.

"Sorta unusual, dontcha think? Two male unicorns with those big pointy horns meeting over a crest."

"Wait a minute." Tony scrambled out of bed, rummaged in his jacket and brought the ring back to bed with him. Gibbs was looking at him oddly so Tony said defensively, "I brought it with me to show Ducky today. He thinks it really is old." Tony had a close look at the crest and damned if there weren't two unicorns facing each other. "They're rampant over a field of azure blue," he said, describing the inlaid crest on the gold ring. "Like the color of your eyes. And okay, yeah, it's unusual. Except the DiNozzo males _are_ known for their virility so it makes perfect sense."

Gibbs tried to conceal a smirk. "Rampant, huh? They've even got big dicks."

Tony immediately looked closely at the crest. "They do not! Those are hairy bits."

"Uhuh. So, you read the motto?"

"It's in Latin, Gibbs. I took Latin but I don't know what it means."

Gibbs retrieved his reading glasses from the nightstand and put them on. He read aloud, "_Fidelis et Verus_."

Tony looked at Gibbs with interest. "Fidelis? As in _Semper Fidelis_? Cool. Faithful and…Verus...uh…A little help here?"

"_ Fidelis et Verus_. Faithful and True," Gibbs translated, holding onto the ring.

"That's a good motto," said Tony, thinking how Senior didn't know the meaning of either of those words. He was glad that he had the ring, even if the way his father had butted into Tony's apartment, and his life, had left a lot to be desired.

Gibbs removed his glasses and put them safely back on the nightstand. He then turned to Tony and took hold of his left hand. As Gibbs slowly slid the gold ring on Tony's finger he looked in Tony's eyes and said solemnly, "I pledge to you, DiNozzo…Tony…that I will live by your family motto. I will be faithful and true so long as you'll have me."

Tony couldn't prevent tears from welling up in his eyes, but this time he didn't care if Gibbs saw them. "Gibbs…Jethro…I guess this means you're going to be stuck with me forever because I plan to be faithful and true, too, and I love you so much I…" He couldn't get anything else out and had to reach for a tissue.

Gibbs twisted and turned off the light before settling down in the bed with Tony in his arms and a smile on his face. "I know, DiNozzo. I know."

※÷※÷※÷※÷※ the end ※÷※÷※÷※÷※

**End Notes:** Thanks for leaving comments, which are always appreciated! If you would like to see my version of the DiNozzo coat of arms, visit my LiveJournal page: rose-malmaison dot livejournal dot com. It is rated 'M.'

Also, this was written for the 2014 NCIS Big Bang Challenge. More wonderful stories and accompanying art links can be found here: ncis-bang dot livejournal dot com (yes it is only 'bang' and not 'bigbang' in the URL). Please let the writers and artists know you've enjoyed their work.

The community also has other challenges, including the Secret Santa one which is accepting sign-ups right now - and some of your favorite writers (nudge nudge wink wink) have signed up - join in the fun!


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